


Best Laid Plans

by Persephoneshadow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Sex, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Car Sex, Dean has a Fear of Flying, From Sex to Love, Hate to Love, Humor, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Dean, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Road Trips, Scenting, Sharing Clothes, Shower Sex, Smut, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 73,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephoneshadow/pseuds/Persephoneshadow
Summary: Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first foray into A/B/O which is a sub genre I really enjoy. And I figured since I was writing something just for fun, why not be shameless and hit ALL THE TROPES and even set parts of it in my home town so..here we go! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW!
> 
>  
> 
> [The amazing Ozonecologne did art for this fic! You can check it out on tumblr over here!](http://ozonecologne.tumblr.com/post/155097660798/happy-belated-birthday-to-writer-reporter) And I've slipped it in throughout as well! You can also check out her awesome fic [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ozonecologne)

 

“Conference call in five.”

Dean looks up at his brother’s mop of brown hair poking through his office door and resists the urge to throw something at it. It’s only the seventh reminder about the call - which isn’t even a fucking call, it’s a group skype thingy - this morning and Dean’s just about ready to take the kid’s head off if only he could reach that far up.

“Got it, Sam,” is all he says instead.

“Do you need Charlie to go over the-”

“I know how to share the designs with the chat!” Dean snaps. Sure, it’s not technically true and Sam knows that because he can probably smell the tension coming of Dean but he can also smell the annoyance, so he just nods and backs out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

Dean lets his head fall into his hands, elbows braced on his desk, probably smudging the sketches beneath them. Dean doesn’t care. They’re crap. Just like everything else he’s produced in the last two months since they got brought on to this shit project is crap. This fucking conference video call whatever is gonna be just another excuse for the ass hats at DXM development to shit over everything he is and has ever tried.

“You’re being over-dramatic,” Charlie’s voice comes from across the desk, her eyebrow raised and holding a cup in her hands.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Dean mutters, accepting the drink and taking a gulp without thinking. “And if I was, it was all completely true because this project – what the fuck is this?” Dean sputters looking at the cup like it might bite him.

“It’s green tea, you giant baby,” Charlie says. “It’s calming.”

“It tastes like grass.”

“ _Calm_ grass. Wait. No, that’s a different thing that Andy probably does too much of. But the point is the whole office can smell how freaking…freaked out you are.”

“Not the _whole_ office,” Dean says weakly as he fixes Charlie with a glare. She’s the only other omega in the office, so he knows she can smell the tension roiling off him. And Sam’s an alpha and his brother so he knows, but Kevin and Victor are betas and Garth is all the way upstairs and… “Shut up.”

“DXM likes your designs Dean, they wouldn’t have hired if they didn’t,” Charlie says, pushing the tea back towards Dean.

“Maybe they just wanted the cheapest architects west of the Rockies,” Dean argues and Charlie wastes no time thwapping him on the head.

It’s true though. Dean still doesn’t get why a huge development company hired their little firm to design a whole subdivision. They’ve never handled something of this scale before – only custom homes around the area in Portland and two commercial jobs. Then suddenly a huge Chicago firm wants them on a multi-million dollar project? Dean thought it was too good to be true when they signed and now he knows it. The last two months had been nothing short of hell. He'd been working himself even harder than usual, which was saying something and his meager social life had all but disappeared, except for the fact he worked mostly with friends and family. The long hours might have been okay, but he response from DXM had been…Well, awful is too nice a word.

“Okay, so maybe DXM likes us,” Dean says. “But that fucking Dark Knight wannabe motherfucker hates me.”

“He’s not…” Charlie stops herself. Even she can’t find it in her to argue that Castiel Novak is anything less than the fucking Worst.

There had been a brief moment, the first time that Novak had popped up on Dean’s computer screen for the first of the video conferences that would become the bane of Dean’s existence, when Dean had thought he was cute. Gorgeous even. Chiseled jaw, plush mouth, amazing blue eyes. All good stuff. Then he’d talked, and at the time the low, rumbling voice had sounded sexy and commanding. And then Dean had actually processed what they guy was saying. He’d turned down five of Dean's initial six designs and spent the rest of the two hour call explaining, in great detail, why and what changes Dean needed to make. Dean had tried to joke through it, even flirt a bit, because if he couldn’t save his designs on their merits maybe charm could do the trick. Nope. Nothing. Now two months later Dean’s not even sure the guy can smile, or take a joke. They only thing he’d sure of is that he hates Dean and his work. If Dean had to hear "This is a good start but I think you can do better," one more he was going to kill someone.

“He’s just not a…warm person,” Charlie finally manages and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Hey, you ready? I got you a coffee.” Sam bounds back in with his own paper cups in hand. He hands one to Dean who takes a grateful sip.

“Dude, this isn’t coffee!” Dean yelps and Sam scowls.

“It’s a latte! That’s coffee.”

“No, a latte is milk with a bad attitude,” Dean shoots back.

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” Charlie groans and scurries around Dean to futz with his computer. She smells content, normal, like fresh mowed grass. Maybe a bit like green tea now that Dean thinks about it. Her scent always mingles nicely with Sam’s arid, earthy scent – not in a mated way, but just as a nice complement. Grass and summer sun in a canyon. It’s soothing enough to get Dean’s stress to abate just a bit.

“Whatever happened to plain fucking coffee?” Dean asks, taking a spiteful gulp of the latte anyway. “This is fat free, isn’t it?”

“It’s better for you,” Sam argues.

“God, let’s just get on the phone,” Dean mutters as his brother makes a face. “I’m sure fucking Novak likes the why bother decaf soy cappuccinos in those tiny cups that are just the right size to shove up his-"

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns slowly to see Charlie standing in horror by the computer where Castiel Novak’s stupid perfect face is taking up half the screen.

“Hi. Mr. Novak. Castiel.” Dean says, wishing he’d designed this fucking office with a trap door under his desk he could trigger right now to escape. “Hi.”

“I assume Sam is there,” Novak says flatly, making no comment about Dean’s faux pas, but still managing to stare at Dean like he’s a fly in his soup.

“Yeah, I’m here!” Sam says, keeping himself off screen as he shoots a Dean a quick ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ look. “I’ll get to my desk.”

“Thank you, I’ll alert Mr. Adler that we’re ready to begin,” Novak says and clicks something.

Dean hates this. Hates staring at Castiel’s annoyingly blue eyes and waiting for the next blow to fall. The designs they submitted yesterday – well, four am their time – were supposed to be the final batch, but who knows if Novak is going to give them the go ahead. If Dean knows the guy, he’s in for another hour of getting reamed about budgets and spacing  ordinances and earthquake safety. Though the fact that Adler is coming in on the call is a good sign. Dean’s only talked to the guy once when they were hired. He’s Novak’s boss so that could mean Asshole McGrumpypants will at least be on good behavior.

“I’m here!” Sam says, his face popping onto the screen.

“Miss Milton will be joining as well,” Novak informs them. Dean’s only ever e-mailed with Anna Milton, who he thinks is some sort of liaison to DXM’s board. He can’t keep anyone a DXM straight but she’s been nice so far. At least nicer than Novak. On cue a pretty face with red hair appears in one quadrant of the screen.

“Every office has to have a brilliant red head I guess,” Dean tries to joke with a grin, nudging Charlie who is still perched beside the computer.

“I’m not aware of any such regulation,” Novak replies, because he has the sense of humor of the underside of a boulder.

“No I mean, we have Charlie and…” Charlie pops her head in and waves and Anna at least smiles a bit.

“Mr. Adler is ready,” Novak says flatly and he actually looks a bit uncomfortable. Serves him right.

A bald, beady-eyed man appears on screen and Dean tries to school his face into something approaching professional.

“Hello, everyone, having a nice…What is it? Wednesday?” Mr. Adler asks, radiating smarm even over video conference. Dean immediately remember why he doesn’t like this guy.

“Tuesday, sir,” Novak corrects, surprising Dean by being deferential rather than blunt and mildly annoyed.

“Of course,” Adler says.

“I wouldn’t know, worked on this project all weekend,” Dean quips and gets a look from Charlie. Was he not supposed to say that? He was going for banter, not bragging or giving away how hard they’ve been working on this thing. Shit…

“I’m not surprised at all,” Adler says, grinning. “Castiel has been effusive about your work ethic and the product that you’ve been delivering.”

“Thanks…what?” Dean's eyes flicking to Novak’s impassive face and trying to understand.

“Oh, indeed, I think the other day when he was briefing me he almost smiled,” Adler goes on.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Anna Milton says so Dean doesn’t have to.

“Well, maybe at the board presentation on Thursday you will,” Adler says and Dean’s brain starts into overdrive.

“Board presentation?” Dean asks at the same time as Sam.

“Yes, that’s what we all wanted to go over with you. Castiel says everything is exemplary and we’re ready to give final approval on the designs and the full project, pending an okay by the board after you present the project.”

“We didn’t think it had to go that high up,” Sam interjects and Dean can feel his heart racing.   

“That was before we heard from Castiel on things,” Adler says sounding downright chipper and Dean can’t process this at all. Of fucking course this is Novak’s fault. They’re getting fired and he’s too spineless to do it himself probably.

“Castiel is passionate about this project believes the board should have a look in order to streamline further collaboration with your shop,” Anna says, completely contradicting everything Dean was just freaking out over.

“Of course, they are finicky, so you’ll need to be on point,” Adler warns and Dean’s stomach turns.  Charlie is staring at him in concern, since she can probably smell the panic he’s trying to keep off his face.

“So, uh, when is the call…video…uh, presentation with them going to be?” Dean asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“The board meets on Thursday afternoon,” Anna says smoothly.

“And no calls for this sort of thing, you’ll be presenting in person!” Adler chortles and Dean _knows_ he goes pale at that. “That’s why Anna and I wanted to be in on this call. I know it’s a lot to ask to ask you to come all the way to Chicago on such short notice, so I wanted you to personally invite you and assure you that we’ll be taking care of the flight and the hotel and meals. All you have to do is show up and be brilliant.”

“On…the day after tomorrow?” Sam asks and Dean immediately knows why there’s worry in his voice. “I’ve got to be in Seattle for-”

“Good thing we just need Dean,” Adler cuts him off and Dean gulps. “They’re his designs anyway. Castiel will take care of the business side of the presentation.”

“Awesome,” Dean squeaks, trying to find anything in Novak’s face on the screen to console him. Nothing.

“Anna will work out the details of the trip,” Novak says, cold and implacable. “You and I will coordinate the presentation in person before the meeting.”

“Oh, uh great that’s…” Dean is starting to process what this means. His lungs apparently got it first cause they’re suddenly not working.

“I’ll take care of it,” Sam says. Dean’s incredibly grateful for it. “Thanks for this opportunity, Mr. Adler.”

“Don’t thank me,” Adler says cheerfully. “We're looking forward to being wowed. See you soon.”

With that Adler’s quadrant goes black. Dean nods towards the screen, hoping he doesn’t look too green. “Uh, thanks. You…yeah.”

It’s Charlie that ends the call and who’s right at Dean’s side as he doubles over, head between his knees, gasping. The other omega gently strokes Dean’s back as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit,” Dean finally manages to get out.

“Yeah,” Charlie agrees, kneeling down and petting Dean’s hair.

“I have to get on a plane.”

“Yup.”

“And present to the fucking board of DXM.”

“Indeed you do.”

“Alone.”

“Well, Novak will be there,” Charlie offers and Dean fights back a wave of new anxiety.

“Shit.”

“Just keep breathing, hon.”

Dean tries that. Tells himself to concentrate on the fact that if he lives through the plane ride and doesn’t epically fuck this up this could be great for the business. That’s what Sam is going to tell him when he comes in. They’ve worked at this for years, since they broke off of just contracting alongside Bobby and started really, truly designing. Dean’s designs and Sam’s business savvy had slowly won them customers. They’d been able to hire great people and now with this one meeting…

“What did I say about breathing?”

“I need a drink,” Dean declares.

“You need to find your chill,” Dean looks up at where Victor spoke from the door. “The whole fucking office smells like freaked omega. And I know that’s seeping through the eight pounds of blockers you wear.”

“Even though you don’t need to,” Charlie adds and Dean sends her a glare. Today is not the day for _that_ argument. He doesn’t bother telling Victor that he forgot blockers today because he’d been too caught up in…everything to even freaking shower. Or eat breakfast.

“Are we getting fired?” Kevin asks from behind Victor. “Because if we are I need to call my mom and tell her not to book the cruise for…”

“We aren’t getting fired,” Charlie sighs. “Dean just has to make a presentation to the board at DXM in two days. They might want _more_ work. And they seem to finally have approved the designs for Blackberry Ridge.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Why are you freaking out?” Kevin asks.

“Because he has to fly there,” Victor answers and Kevin starts laughing before Dean and Charlie cast him furious looks.

“Oh my god you’re serious,” Kevin says. “I thought you were freaked out about them knowing you’re an-”

“Kevin,” Victor cuts him off and the smaller beta’s eyes go wide. “Shut up.”

“Dean’s just processing, but he’s gonna do fine and he’s totally up to this.” Charlie is smiling so brightly Dean almost believes her, but his stomach stills turn and his tongue goes numb at just the thought of what’s in store and now. Thanks to Kevin, there’s a whole other thing to freak out about because he’s pretty sure no one at the big fancy development company knows an omega is designing their houses and isn’t _that_ gonna be a conversation starter.

“I really need a drink,” Dean repeats and lets his head fall into his hands.

 

He doesn’t actually get a drink until about nine o’clock that night, after Sam bodily drags him from the office and forces him home. Because no one gave him booze he’d been left with his only other available drug of choice and that was work. The presentation looks good thanks to that. Charlie had done her magic with the digital graphics and all Dean was really going to have to do was click a button and point at shit. He’d had to exchange a few terse emails with Novak to work things out, but aside from a clearly disingenuous ‘I look forward to going over this with you before the board meeting,’ it hadn’t been so bad.

Sam had dropped Dean off and ordered him to pack, but he didn’t need to be at the airport until ten the next morning, so Dean’s only plan for the night was to soothe his nerves with some beer and maybe a bit of whiskey too if the beer didn’t work. He hoped it didn’t come to that. Sam would give him shit for it tomorrow if Dean smelled like a brewery when he picked him up, but at this point, four bottles in and happily swallowed by the couch as the food network drones on in front of him, he’s not worrying.

So of course that’s when his cell rings. It’s a good thing it’s not Sam or that would end up with the phone pitched across the room.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean grunts.

“Heard you’re going to the big dance,” Bobby says without ceremony.

“That sounds like I’m being sent to execution.”

“From what I hear you’re acting like it.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Remind me to punch Sam tomorrow. I’m fine.”

“You were scared of planes before what happened and you ain’t been up in the air since, don’t tell me you’re fine,” Bobby snaps.

Dean bites his lip in a combination of annoyance and shame. “Okay. So I’m not fine. I’m freaking the fuck out,” Dean admits and takes a pointed swig of beer.

“So, tell me how you’re going to deal with it?”

Dean pauses. He hadn’t quite thought about things that way. It helps a bit. Maybe. Not that he’d admit that. “I’m going to drink myself into unconsciousness, like I was raised to, and then tomorrow I’m gonna drink myself through the flight, then kick Chicago’s ass."

“Damn right you are,” Bobby says.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean sighs into the phone, casting a doubtful look at the kitchen where the unopened bottle of whiskey waits.

“Keep me updated, I always wanna know how my investment is doing,” Bobby says before hanging up and Dean chuckles.

He pulls himself up and heads to the kitchen, bare feet dragging quietly on the hardwood. He remembers choosing these floors with Bobby, arguing with him about the layout of the living room and the bay window that looks out onto the dark back yard from the bedroom. Bobby was as much a part of building the first house as Dean and Sam were. And when it was done he conveniently retired and gave his boys the capital to start up their shop. Dean has no idea what he’d do without the old man, so he probably owes it to him to get his shit together and get through tomorrow.

Dean opens the whiskey and takes a long burning swig that makes the thought of tomorrow and the memories of the past nice and hazy. Things will be fine. The flight’s gonna be hell, but if he’s lucky he won’t be conscious for most of it. He already got the lecture from Charlie about the effect of stress on omegas on suppressants, which he diligently ignored. Of all the things worrying him, that's the least important because he's not a moron and will remember to take the stupid pills that allow him to move in society without everyone offering him a pillow or a good hard fuck. Not that he would necessarily turn that last one down out of hand right now. It’s been a really long fucking time…Maybe, a year? More. He's been on full suppressants for two, and he had a nice long weekend with a beta yoga instructor a while after going on them and then there was the one sight stand with...was his name Aaron? They had only traded blow jobs, which had be great but, it had been so long since Dean and had anyone in him.

Dean shakes his head, taking the bottle with him back to the couch. He hasn’t even had time to be horny in the last few months with the amount of work they’ve been doing. The suppressants also tend to keep his libido pretty low, which is honestly a blessing since dating or even hooking up as an omega is too fucking fraught for him to even bother a lot of the time; obviously, given the dry spell. Usually he gets his rocks off in the shower because it’s quick and easy and he doesn’t have to think about how fucking lonely it is and it doesn’t remind him of the desperate need of his heat. Usually just the thought of the fever and insane, insatiable want of a heat is enough to turn him off but it surprisingly doesn’t kill the mood. Maybe it’s because on the suppressants it’s been about two years since his last proper heat and the memory is getting distant. Right now though, a nice, lazy session with his right hand sounds just about perfect. Weird. But Dean’ll take horny over panicking himself into oblivion any time.

Dean redirects himself upstairs to his bedroom rather than back to the couch, taking another long draw of the whiskey and considering his options and if any of the toys he has in the night stand are viable for the night. He doesn’t even know if the batteries on the vibe are still good, it’s been so long since it’s gotten action. And god, is there anything more depressing than a dusty dildo?

Dean laughs at that, 'cause it's funny and he's fucking drunk. Oh. Things are spinning a bit, but he's also sort of turned on from thinking about all the sex he's not having. He collapses on the bed and palms his cock through his sweatpants as he takes another swig of booze. He’s pleasantly smashed now and touching himself feel good. Feels better than anything else today. Even the thrill of getting the project finished had been fucked up by fucking Novak. Dean moans and grows harder, increasing his pressure. He does not want to think about that asshole right now. Except he sort of does. Because Novak does have a nice mouth and it would look extra nice around Dean’s cock. Also he couldn’t talk that way. Not that his voice isn’t kind of sexy.

Dean pushes down his sweatpants and boxers and starts stroking in earnest, letting the pleasure and the buzz of alcohol chase away the weirdness of thinking about Castiel Novak and getting turned on. He’s probably just having a small mental break from the stress, nothing much to worry about. No need to fret on how thinking about the jerk is making Dean wet in a way that hasn't happened for…well, it’s been a while, but the drip of slick actually feels not bad right now. He twists his hand, working himself faster and fighting the urge to reach his other hand down and work his hole. He doesn’t need that. He’s not some needy, cock-starved omega. Fuck, he wonders if Novak is an omega – might explain the grump. Then again he’s too much of an asshole, so that could mean he just a plain beta…or maybe he’s an alpha with a fat knot he doesn’t let control him cause he’s a fucking Vulcan, but get him in the right room and…

Dean would be embarrassed by how fast he comes if he wasn’t alone and drunk and if it didn’t feel so fucking _good_.

He stumbles out of bed to clean up, taking a few more swigs from the bottle as he does and falls back into bed with a brain that is incredibly and pleasantly blank. He’s supposed to be doing something, he knows that. But he’s forgotten what. That’s okay. Everything will be fine in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter already? Well, like I said, I had a few stored up.
> 
> Enjoy the porn, pervs ;)

Everything is not fine.

There is pounding on Dean’s door and his head is going to explode. He stumbles down the stairs and through the hall, tangled in his comforter, eyes barely cracked open in the harsh morning light, and wrenches open the front door.

“Are you naked?” Sam demands as Dean blinks at him, still bleary and more than a little bit nauseous.

“What time is it?” 

“Time for us to get to the airport.” Sam gives a cautious sniff and wrinkles his nose. “Gross, Dean and…are you hungover?!”

“I was trying to relax!” 

“Are you even packed?”

Dean blinks slowly, trying to focus on Sam past the too bright sun (why is there sun? its fucking October?) and the headache slicing his skull. “Shit.”

“Dean!” Sam huffs and pushes past Dean into the house. “Get in the fucking shower, I’ll pack for you.”

Dean doesn’t even protest and if that’s not an indicator of how awful he feels, nothing is. Not only does he ache from head to toe, the panic and fear he’d drowned in whiskey last night is back full force and twisting his stomach into sick knots even worse than all the toxins in his body. In two hours he has to be on a plane and…

He makes it to the bathroom and wretches for about two minutes before assuring Sam he’s alive and dragging himself into the shower. He barely notices the temperature and washes quickly, stumbling out and into his normal attire of jeans, a tee and a flannel while Sam packs what Dean will need from the bathroom. Before he knows it or can protest Sam is rushing him out the door with one shoe on, the other in his hand.

“Seriously, Dean are you gonna be okay?” Sam asks from the driver’s seat of his Prius.

Dean burrows further down and covers his eyes with his hand. “Just get me on the fucking plane.”

“Try not to pass out in your own puke in the lavatory, okay?” 

“Okay, for one have you seen how small those things are? And two, no way am I walking around on the plane and three I am taking the fucking pills Kevin gave me as soon as I have my seatbelt on,” Dean rattles off. “Please tell me I have my work bag.”

“You do,” Sam signs. “Just…have some coffee or something when you get off the groound. There’s gonna be a DXM person waiting for you at the airport.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans. “Now I’m gonna worry about throwing up on a secretary. Awesome.”

“Dean, you’re gonna be fine and tomorrow you’re going to give a great presentation and win this for us.” There’s a note of desperation in Sam’s voice and definite anxiety in his scent. He’s genuinely worried for Dean, or that Dean is going to fuck this up for them. That clears Dean’s head better than anything else.

“I’m not gonna screw up, Sammy, I know this is important.”

Sam gives a tight nod and steers the car onto the freeway. Dean spends the rest of the drive trying to breathe and not vomit, which works in the sense he doesn’t hurl but not so much to stem the panic as they get to the airport. He’s clammy with sweat and pale when they get there. Sam already has Dean’s ticket printed out and Dean’s not checking a bag so there’s no ticket agents to deal with, which is a blessing. Dean’s already noticed a few people giving him _looks_ by the time they get to security and Sam pulls him into a crushing hug.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam tells him, though he has a weird look when he draws back, nose scrunched up. “Just, uh, take care of yourself and focus on the work. We know it’s great.”

“Thanks,” Dean mutters. “I’ll uh, keep you updated.”  Sam doesn’t move to leave, just keeps staring at Dean in worry. “I’ll be fine, I promise, get out of here.”

“And try and be polite to Novak,” Sam says finally.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, bitch,” he huffs.

“Bye, Jerk,” Sam says, shaking his head as he leaves.  

Dean takes a deep breath through his mouth. The mix of so many scents here is overwhelming, especially because there are so many grumpy, anxious people around. And Dean smells just as bad, because of course he forgot his blockers. The tired omega at the security line gives Dean a sniff and passes him through quickly out of sympathy and Dean can’t even be bothered to be annoyed by the condescension. Whatever gets this done faster.

His plane is just boarding by the time he makes it to the gate. DXM sprang for a first class seat because god doesn't hate him entirely and the flight attendant shows Dean to a window seat. The beta offers him a free glass of champagne, which is pretty impressive for a Wednesday morning. Dean nods a thank you and fishes the pills from Kevin out of his bag and downs two. Maybe he’ll be okay. He’s got a nice seat, he’s got booze and a bored beta sitting next to him. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

The plane's first lurch makes Dean immediately revise that. He grabs his armrests and tries to breathe – after downing the whole glass of champagne and signaling for another.

“Are you ok?” his seatmate asks, eyebrow high.

“Just…need to get in the air…” Dean lies, jaw clenched.

“Alright…” the beta says doubtfully.

Dean screws his eyes shut as the engines rev up for take-off and the plane shudders. He tries to hum to himself, tries to count sheep and breathe and concentrate on the fact that this it will be over soon and then he’ll just have to _make the presentation of his life while fucking Castiel Novak is watching and then fly home and fuck fuck fuck fuck._

“Must be hard, having to travel alone,” the beta says and Dean’s eyes fly open.

“What?” Dean waves the flight attendant down for another free drink, because he is going to milk _that_ for all it’s worth until the pills kick in.

“Your mate? Or, well, paramour…”

“Excuse me?” Dean balks, catching his reflection in the guy’s horn-rimmed glasses. He looks pale and terrible and sick…exactly like a newly mated omega separated from their alpha might look. Oh for fuck’s sake. The beta probably can’t smell that he’s very happily unmated. “Oh no. I just…” the flight attendant chooses that moment to bring another glass of champagne, which Dean downs in an instant. “I really hate flying.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to presume, you just…”

“I know,” Dean mutters and grabs at his armrest as the plane starts to speed up. “I’m gonna just…freak out here quietly now so…sorry…”

“Yeah, um, okay.”

Dean shuts his eyes again and forces a few thin, tight breaths. The pressure builds, the engine roars and Dean hopes it’s loud enough to drown out the loop in his head of his dad’s voice telling him that mom’s trip had gone wrong and…

 

Dean didn’t know that panic could actually make you pass out. Maybe it was that. Or the pills and the booze. But somehow, by some miracle, a flight attendant shakes Dean awake in an empty cabin.

“Sir, we’ve landed.”

Dean blinks, feeling foggy and on edge. But they’re on the ground in Chicago. Hallelujah. He’s not even sad he missed the food. All that matters to him is getting out of this deathtrap and safely onto solid ground.

He barely remembers to grab his bags, he’s in such a rush. Getting out of the stale plane air is a relief. Dean stinks of anxiety and confusion, enough so that a few curious alphas along the O’Hare concourse give him looks as he stalks by. Finally escaping the crowds into the transport area is another burden off his back. He still feels like shit, he’s starving, and he’s doing everything not to freak out about the meeting that’s less than 24 hours away, so he almost misses the skinny omega holding a sign with “Winchester” written on it in sharpie. Dean thanks god for small miracles that Novak isn’t the one picking him up.

“Uh, hi,” Dean say with a small wave. The kid sniffs as Dean comes close and his eyes go wide in surprise, recognizing another omega instantly. Great. Now that little nugget of information is out of the bag. “I’m assuming you’re my ride,” Dean goes on, and the kid snaps out of staring.

“Uh, yes, sorry! My name’s Alfie, Mr. Novak wanted to be here but he was held up late at the office and he sent me to fetch you.”

“Of course he did,” Dean grumbles. He’s not at all surprised Novak made an excuse to avoid him. He doubts he’s actually at work. Probably at some swanky…thing? What do fancy Chicago developers do? Art galleries? Opera? Whatever. “Just get me to where I’m goin’."

Alfie nods and Dean follows him to the parking lot. The younger omega smells a little nervous but his scent is hard to make out past all the car exhaust and smog. The air in Chicago isn’t half as clean as in Portland and Dean can smell his own stink of unease, which he hates. Alfie leads them to a nice black Lincoln MKZ and Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, uh, definitely not my car,” Alfie says with a blush and politely opens the back door for Dean. If Alfie hadn’t said anything, Dean would have known from the second he climbed in, because the car smells nothing like an omega. It smells like alpha in all the best ways.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes to himself as he settles against the soft leather of the back seat. The scent of whoever owns the car makes Dean think of autumn – cool, dense woods and the smoky, sweet scent of fallen leaves and a distant fire. And under that is the tang of alpha that usually gets Dean’s defenses up but here it’s just another note in the chord. It’s amazing and fuck, it’s got Dean a little bit turned on?

“Uh, nice…wheels,” Dean says weakly. “How far is the hotel?”

“Only a few minutes,” Alfie chirps.

Dean sighs in gratitude, and sinks deeper into the seat. There’s no harm in just enjoying the scent. It’s heady and comforting at the same time, which is weird. But Dean wants to soak it up as much as he can, Which is also weird because usually he’s not really turned on by just a scent, however enticing. He’ll get a whiff of some alphas and be a bit interested but the fact that they’re goddamn alphas is usually enough to turn Dean off. But this…Dean shifts uneasily, because he’s starting to actually feel a little warm and fluttery, and yeah, definitely turned on. Not leaking and getting hard, yet, but the smell sets something buzzing under his skin that makes him breathe faster and maybe it would be a good idea to open the window.

Dean doesn’t though. He sits awkwardly, not even bothering to make conversation with the poor intern shuttling him around and just tries to enjoy the nice car and the really nice scent without getting carried away. At least it eases some of his tension and makes the prospect of tomorrow a little less terrifying. That and the fact Dean actually made it to Chicago alive has him a bit excited and hopeful for the first time.

“And here we are,” Alfie says almost too soon as they pull up in front of a sleek, swanky hotel. DXM apparently wasn’t joking about sparing no expense. Dean’s regret at leaving behind the enticing scent in the car is overcome by admiration. He gawks at the glass doors into the lobby full of fresh flowers and people much classier than Dean will ever be. “We already have you all checked in – room 918. Here’s your keys and please feel free to charge anything to the room.”

Dean nods as he takes the key and hefts his bags with him. Nothing sounds better than ordering room service and the world’s longest shower. Even though he slept the whole ride he feels tired and achy down to his bones. “Thanks,” Dean mutters.

“Mr. Novak will be in touch to prepare,” Alfie adds and Dean tries not to grimace.

“Can’t wait to hear from him,” Dean says and gives Alfie a wave.

Finding the room is easy, and it smells blessedly fresh and clean. It’s a nice change from the stink of the plane and airport, but it’s not as nice as the mystery alpha scent of that car. It’s a fancy room too, with huge window, a little desk and giant king bed with about seven hundred pillows and crisp white sheets. Dean sets his bag aside and does a cursory job of unpacking and setting up his computer before checking his phone…which he forgot to turn back on when he landed. Great.

There are seven texts and two voicemails from Sam. Five texts from Charlie and a missed call but no voicemail from, of course, Novak. Dean calls Sam first.

 

Two hours later Dean is showered and fed on the best burger that room service could provide. He’s assured his friends and family he’s alive and will be fine tomorrow if they just stop asking…and he still feels awful. His mood has soured and he can’t quite get comfortable and there’s no good temperature and even the fluffy hotel robe itches his skin. His phone ringing as the Chicago skyline darkens outside his window makes him growl in irritation. He’s ready to snap at the caller for annoying him until he sees the caller ID. Fucking perfect.

“Hi, uh, Cast..Mr. Novak,” Dean stammers, 'cause he really never has any idea what to call the guy.

“Hello, Dean,” Novak intones. His voice seems extra deep and that brings Dean back to the suddenly very embarrassing memory on his little session with his hand last night. “Alfie let me know you made it alright. Is there anything else you need?”

Dean stops himself from saying ‘A fifth of jack and some hookers,’ or ‘for you to get the massive stick out of your ass’ and manages: “No, I’m good. All squared away.”

“Good. I’ll meet you at your hotel at nine tomorrow to go over the presentation,” Novak states and Dean bites back a groan.

“Is there really that much to go over? The meeting isn’t until three, right?”  Dean tries not to sound as irritated as he feels.

“It’s important to be prepared, Dean, but I was planning on showing you around the office beforehand and possibly –”

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Dean grumbles and then shakes his head at how much of an asshole he sounds like, but whatever. “I’ll see you at nine.”

“Please let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Dean rolls his eyes. There is no one in the world less qualified to give him anything he needs. "Sure thing,” he mutters and hangs up.

Just talking to Novak has him wound up again. Dean paces the room. He feels tense and tired at the same time, and he wants to crawl out of his skin and also sleep for the rest of forever. It’s awesome and confusing and damn it he can’t find the right temperature still. He takes the precaution of shutting the blinds before he throws off the bathrobe and cranks up the AC. It just gives him goosebumps which makes him even more uncomfortable so he goes looking for a shirt…

His bag is open on the luggage rack and Dean fully intends to grab a sleep shirt and sweats from there, but his attention, or more accurately, his nose is drawn to the clothes he discarded on the floor before his shower. The alpha scent from the car still lingers in the fabric. Surprisingly, it’s not eclipsed by Dean’s own scent but…complemented by it. It’s a combination that has Dean nuzzling his face into the fabric of his own shirt before he knows what he’s doing.

Dean groans despite himself as he inhales the rich, forest scent of this mystery alpha mixed with his own rain-sweet musk. He lets himself imagine what he tried to avoid thinking of in the car – burying himself in the smell and the alpha that goes with it. How fast he finds himself hard and leaking at that thought is alarming and embarrassing, but he’s too into whatever is happening to care very much.

Dean sinks back onto the cushy hotel bed and uses his free hand to fist his cock, closing his eyes and imagining other hands with long fingers around him, maybe pushing him down and then stroking him slow and tight. He gives a wanton groan at the thought, bucking up into his own fist and giving himself over to the scent and the fantasy. The smell of his own arousal threatens to overcome the alpha scent on the shirt Dean has pressed to his face, but it still matches it perfectly. Like in an apple orchard in fall. Dean strokes himself faster, twisting his hand and thumbing the head of his cock on the upstrokes. If Dean weren’t so insanely turned on, fantasizing about an alpha would freak him the fuck out, but now all he wants is to imagine this alpha, fuck, _his_ alpha flipping him over and driving his hard cock into Dean.

Dean moans again and hauls himself onto his knees, arranging the shirt on the pile of pillows and pressing his face against it so he’s presenting to the empty air. It’s ridiculous and lewd, but it frees up another hand to delve into his waiting, wet hole. He slides two fingers in easily. Amazing, considering how long it’s been since he’s done this. But it feels so good, and at the same time, such a tease compared to the fantasy of this alpha’s bulging knot catching on his rim. Dean works his fingers deeper and jerks his cock faster, as much as he can while his face is pressed into the quickly fading scent of his alpha. He whimpers as he imagines the alpha fucking him, hard and fast and rough because Dean’s _his_ and needs to be fucking filled and taken and…

Dean comes with a strangled cry into the pillow, spilling over the pretty orange comforter on the hotel bed.

“Fuck…” Dean sighs to himself, blissed out, still woozy and more than a bit confused as to where _that_ came from. He kicks away the soiled comforter and lets himself drift in the afterglow of his orgasm rather than think too much about it. He should brush his teeth or get under the sheets (even though he’s still too hot) or something but he just wants to zone out and chase the last vestiges of the scent into unconsciousness. So he does.

 

Dean’s dreams are tangled and urgent and wet and hot. Sometimes he’s running through an empty hotel or unfamiliar city streets chasing a shadow or a scent, shaking and feral to find what he needs. Sometime the shadow is chasing him and he lets himself be caught and taken, and the thrill of it and the dream of rough hands and hot breath on his neck has him aching and reeling. He can’t quite get to the place where the shadow is truly solid though, and when the phantom mate takes Dean and fucks him it’s empty and just makes Dean whimper with deeper need. Dean wakes up then, hands blindly groping at his cock and his hole, trying to find some satisfaction and friction until he comes with a cry and still feels empty as he drifts back into fevered dreams.

The sound of his phone blaring Kansas wakes him fully after who knows how long of chasing rest and release and getting nothing. Dean blinks, panicking at first at the unfamiliar surroundings and the fact that he’s fucking burning up and shivering at the same time. He fumbles for his phone and his shaking hand manages to swipe to answer the call.

“Sam?”

“I knew you would forget to set an alarm,” Sam says, warm and annoyed.

Right. Chicago. Big presentation. Hotel. Most important day of his business life. Remembering all of that only increases Dean’s panic and adds a nice layer of terrified nausea to the mix.

“Yeah…I…Definitely forgot that.”

“Dean, are you okay? You sound like crap.”

He feels like crap and the fact he has no idea why is just freaking him out more. He’s not even hung over and this isn’t the flu cause he’s breathing fine…though the only thing he can smell is his own sweat and arousal which makes no sense cause nothing about how he feels right now is sexy. “I’m uh…” Dean sits up and peels back the sheets which are gross with sweat and come and slick. The scent hits him harder and _fuck_. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him. “I, uh, hit the bottle too hard last night…I gotta…” Dean can barely get the words out and he doesn’t even hear whatever protest or disgusted noise same makes. “I gotta go, Sammy. I’ll be fine.”

He ends the call and slams the phone down on the bedside table. He will not be fine. He’s got the most important meeting of his life in like seven hours and he’s _in heat for the first time in two years_.

“ _Fuck_.” Dean whispers to himself, kicking away the sheets and standing on shaking legs. He’s sweaty and shivering and the slick leaking down his thigh is horrifying and he’s ready to crawl out of his skin with need. God, how did he miss this? How did he not feel it coming or, Jesus, smell it? Maybe because he was too busy getting off to the fucking smell of some random alpha like the pathetic omega heat turns him into. “Fuck!”

Dean swallows and tries to calm down, get some oxygen. He tears the sheets of the bed and shoves them into a pile by the window. His legs are unsteady and he already feels a new wave of horny, desperate need rushing through him. He grabs his phone again, because he absolutely cannot talk to Sam about this but he has to talk to somebody. It only takes one ring for an answer.

“Hey, Dean! I was waiting for the freak out call!” Charlie jokes and Dean wishes he could punch something. “Now, just breathe-”

“Charlie, this isn’t about the damn meeting!” Dean snarls. “Aside from the fact I’m gonna miss it and ruin everything!”

“Dean, what’s going on?” Charlie’s voice is instantly only concern.

“I’m in _heat_ ,” Dean grits out and the confession makes him want to puke.

“You’re…what? _How_?”

“I don’t know!”

“But you’re on suppressants! You’re religious about them.”

Dean leans against the wall as another piece clicks into place. “Except for this week. I was so deep in the project I forgot them on Tuesday and yesterday I was running out the door but…”

“I told you about stress when you’re on that shit!” Charlie snaps and Dean groans. Spending a day or two freaked to the max probably made his idiocy worse. And who knows if smelling some random perfect alpha in a car also pushed things along. Jesus, he should have known Tuesday night when he got himself off instead of packing. Now he’s stuck in a strange city in heat on the one day he needs to not be a human disaster.

“I’m so fucked,” Dean whimpers.

“No, you wish you were and that’s the problem.”

“Gross, Charlie.” Dean closes his eyes and lets he head fall against the cool wallpaper of the hotel room. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I fix this?” Dean knows it’s a dumb question, but he’s getting hotter and wetter as he speaks and he wants to die because of it. “How fast do you think the suppressants will kick back in if I take like a triple dose?”

“Dean, no, that could seriously mess with your body!”

“Screw my body! It’s the asshole that got me in this mess.” Dean can feel Charlie giving him A Look through the phone. “Charlie, I’m serious, I can’t miss this meeting and I can’t go while I’m like this.”

“Well, it goes in cycles, right? I mean at least for me it does. Once I, you know…”

“Ugh, I don’t need details,” Dean groans.

“I usually have a little while before I _have_ to get off again,” Charlie pushes back. “And it’s better if you’ve got a knot. And it’s WAY better if you have an actual partner to –”

“So your suggestion is what? Call up a bellhop to fuck me before I go to the meeting?”

“They have to earn the tips somehow I guess.”

“Charlie!”

“Come on, Dean; Just…take a cold shower. Take a _regular_ dose of meds. Get off and…push through.” Dean can hear the worry in her voice. This isn’t just his job he’s fucked up. It’s hers and Sam’s and Kevin’s and Victor’s and Garth’s and…

“I’ll…deal with it,” Dean lies and ends the call without another word. He has to figure something out. Maybe he can call in sick? Maybe they can move the meeting? Maybe he can fling himself into the sun and not have to worry about anything ever again. First things, he has to take his damn pills.

Dean grabs the bottle of suppressants from his bag and stumbles into the bathroom. Seeing his reflection only deepens his shame. He’s flushed and sweaty and his pupils are wide and dark. He trembles as he shoves a double dose of pills in his mouth and downs a gallon of water straight from the tap. He should shower and find some food and get himself together, he knows that, but all he can think is that he’s wet and alone and desperately empty and needs to be filled or he’s going to die.

He’s doomed.

He stumbles out of the bathroom and grabs the sheets back from their pile, resolving to get himself some satisfaction and see how long the relief lasts…maybe if he can time it right and avoid all other contact with people he can make the meeting. God, the thought of getting himself off in some shiny corporate washroom while the whole fucking board of DXM waits should make him sick and horrified but it only starts to get him hard. Fuck. It’s been a while since his last heat but it’s never been this bad…He fumbles with the mess of sheets as he starts to stroke himself and then gasps when the hint of a scent hits him.

His clothes from the night before have to be tangled somewhere in there because he can smell that stupid, perfect alpha scent again and he wants it. He also wants to throttle whatever alpha goes with it but now all that matters in finding it. Dean’s on his knees in the mess in a second, digging though the still sweat and slick-moist sheets.

A knock on his door is the last thing in the world he wants to hear. He doesn’t want housekeeping in here, or anyone else. He scrambles up, grabbing the robe he discarded the night before and tugging it on. He obviously is taking too long for the impatient asshole at the door because they knock again, more insistently.

“I’ll be right –”

“Dean?” A low, concerned voice asks from the other side of the door.

Shit. Dean looks at the clock. Nine on the dot. The last thing in the fucking world he wants to deal with right now is Castiel fucking Novak. How is he going to look this jerk in the face, stinking of heat and desperation and explain he can’t prep because he’s an absolute fuck up and…

“Dean are you alright?” Novak asks, at least approximating actual worry.

Dean rushes to the door, pulling the robe tight. He hopes his mortification kills the hard on. “I’m–” Dean can’t even think of a lie. He just has to get this done quickly and pray to God that Novak doesn’t fire him on the spot. Dean pulls the door open. “Sorry, I’m –”

Dean has no idea what he is because the second the door is open the scent hits him. The alpha’s scent from the car but a hundred times more intense. Perfect and intoxicating. _Castiel’s scent_. Dean stares at the alpha standing thunderstruck in the hotel hall. His wide, confused eyes are bluer in person and his strong jaw is dusted with stubble. He’s wearing a baggy trench coat over his suit and holding two cardboard cups in his hands. Oh god, they’re nice hands. Long tan fingers…with rapidly whitening knuckles. And they’re shaking. Of course he is, he just opened the door on an omega in heat and if Dean smells half as good as Novak does to him, he's screwed.

“Shit,” Dean whispers as he looks up into Novak’s face. His jaw is clenched but his nostrils are flaring and his eyes are darkening with desire. His scent has shifted too and the undercurrent of arousal and want in it makes Dean weak in the knees.

“I…I should go,” Novak says with great difficulty but doesn’t move. Thank god.

“If you walk away right now I will kick your fucking ass,” Dean growls.

Novak’s eyes go wide in shock and confusion and Dean gulps. He had expected annoyance from an alpha being met with such defiance by his omega. Instead the guy just looks terrified and sort of like he’s about to tear himself in two. The fact that he hasn't pounced on Dean already is astonishing, actually. 

“Jesus, don’t just stand there, come on,” Dean manages to say and grabs the alpha, dragging him into the room.

“Dean, I…” Dean has no idea why the guy’s voice is so unsteady. He can smell how much Castiel (and he’s gotta think of him that way, because first names should be a thing when you want someone you fuck you into oblivion) wants Dean. He can see how hard the guy is trying to hold back as he sets down the coffee with trembling hands, never breaking eye contact. “I shouldn’t…we…” That doesn’t make sense either because there is nothing in the world right now that makes more sense than the two of them.

“Do you want me?” Dean asks, even though he knows the answer. Castiel’s breath is coming fast and a flush is rising on his cheeks as he gives a tight nod. “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

“This is a–”

Dean doesn’t let him get out the rest of the excuse, just pounces and kisses him. Castiel gives a small grunt of surprise then grabs Dean’s arms. For a second Dean panics at the idea that his alpha is going to push him away, but Castiel just pulls him closer, with near bruising pressure. Dean kisses him hard and deep and the taste and scent of the alpha is beyond intoxicating. Dean wants to lose himself in Castiel forever, shut out the rest of the world so it’s just them and the heady scent of want and need and completion and nothing else. Dean has to taste more of him though, feel his heated skin. He can feel Castiel already hard and bulging between them and he wants to see it. Dean wrests his arms out of the alpha’s grip and starts scrabbling at Castiel’s clothes. They’re an uncoordinated, hasty mess as Castiel’s coat and jacket are pushed away, followed by his tie. Dean pops a few buttons as he tears Castiel’s shirt off, but he doesn't care because he has miles of smooth, hot skin to touch now.

Dean buries his face at Castiel’s neck, scenting and sucking and biting as the alpha gives a broken moan. Just tasting him is so good that Dean’s delirious and Castiel seems to feel the same. Dean whimpers as Castiel pulls back, but it’s only so he can tug off Dean’s robe and expose his entire naked body. The alpha stares at Dean for a long moment, panting and licking his lips before grabbing Dean again and pushing him back and onto the bed.

Dean’s fully hard cock drags against the answering bulge in Castiel’s slacks and they both moan before clamping their mouths together in a fevered kiss. Dean’s hands are nearly useless as he tries to shift and fumble with Castiel’s belt and fly between them, so much so that Castiel pulls back and bats his omega’s hands away. Dean catches his breath as Castiel efficiently frees his dick. “Holy fuck…” Dean whispers, staring at perhaps the most gorgeous cock he’s ever had the honor of seeing. It sends another wave of absolute, starving need through him and he licks his lips at the sight of the precome beading at the swollen red crown. The scent of arousal is so thick Dean can taste it.

Castiel is back on him so fast it knocks the wind out of Dean, kissing him and hauling him further up the bed as their cocks rub together between them. It sends pleasure through Dean that makes his eyes roll back but it’s not what he wants right now; not what he needs more than anything. He grabs Castiel’s hand and guides it past his dick to where Castiel can feel the wet evidence of his desire. The first breach of Castiel’s long, thick fingers into Dean’s hole makes the omega arch in pleasure and moan. Still, Castiel is tentative, rubbing and barely penetrating Dean as he sniffs and kisses and bites at Dean’s shoulder and neck.

“Please, fuck, I need…” Dean whimpers. He’s actually not sure if it’s the first time he’s said it or the twentieth. “Please, please. Please…Need you.”

“Dean.” The sound of his name in Castiel’s mouth, rumbling and hungry ratchets up Dean’s arousal so much he’s ready to weep with it. “Are you…”

Dean looks right up into his alpha’s face. His mouth is swollen, his hair is a wreck and his dark eyes are filled with lust but also trepidation and Dean has no idea why. He was made for this alpha, his body needs him like it needs oxygen. What could he possibly be confused about?

“Fuck me,” Dean manages to pant, or beg. “Now.”

Castiel’s face hardens and he gives a growl that just about ends Dean right there. He grabs Dean by the hips and flips him. It takes a second for Dean to even register the change of position but when he does he is _so_ with the program. He rises up on his elbows and knees and barely has a second to prepare before Castiel drives his perfect cock into him.

Dean doesn’t even try to muffle his moans of pleasure into the pillows. He wants Castiel to hear, wants his alpha to know how good it feels as he starts to fuck into him, hot and slow. “Yes, fuck, so good…yes…more…fuck!” Dean goes on and on, muttering praise as he loses himself in the ecstatic pleasure of Castiel filling him, spearing him with hard heat in a rhythm that has Dean quickly losing whatever bits of his mind were even left.

“So good, oh god, Dean,” he hears Castiel groan as he drapes himself over Dean, pressing kisses to Dean’s neck and, oh god, grabbing his hip with one hand and Dean’s cock with the other. Dean’s never felt so on fire, like his blood is singing under his skin and the pleasure as Castiel jacks his cock and fucks into Dean faster and faster, hitting the sweet spot over and over, is electrifying. He feels the first catch of his’s alpha’s swelling knot and whatever filthy litany he had going before melts into one long, desperate cry. Castiel’s knot breaches him entirely at last and it’s the final push Dean needs. He comes, screaming into the mattress, convulsing and collapsing as his alpha gives a few more thrusts into him and then follows Dean over the edge. Dean shudders with another different wave of pleasure and satisfaction as he feels Castiel’s come pulse into him and the alpha groans above Dean.

Dean’s not sure where his body even is, or how he’s supporting himself. His alpha is knotted inside him, locked to him, and he wraps lithe, strong arms around Dean. Somehow they’re on their sides now, the alpha pressed against Dean at every point and the scent of pleased, sated alpha envelops Dean with a sense of protection and possession. Dean just floats; beyond satisfied, only caring about the feedback loop of scent and pleasure that he’s caught in, vaguely aware of his mate snuffling at his neck before he drifts into the welcome black of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Find me on tumblr](http://ibelieveinthelittletreetopper.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at waiting to post stuff, okay.

Dean jolts awake to “Walking on Sunshine” blaring from his phone. He gropes for it blindly, unwilling to push himself all the way to awake because he’s warm and safe and very very content at the moment under the weight of his covers. Maybe he can just let it go to voicemail, Charlie won’t mind. He’s not even sure why she’s calling. Dean has a hopeful second as his phone goes silent, but it starts up a fresh chorus and the body sprawled on top of Dean gives an annoyed groan.

Oh fuck.

Dean’s eyes shoot open and he feels the alpha _who is still inside him_ tense as well. 

“Oh god,” Castiel says and the scent of happy alpha that was wrapped around Dean like a blanket spikes with apprehension and alarm to match Dean’s. Castiel draws away and pulls out of Dean, his knot having gone down while they slept and finally Dean can scramble up and away as Castiel stares at him in horror. “Dean…”

“Shut up,” Dean snaps, because he’s too busy with his own freak out right now to deal with the one clearly playing over the alpha’s face. Dean heat fucked his boss. He let the guy who hates him knot him and it was earth shattering and he is totally screwed.  The phone starts ringing again and Dean dives towards the bedside table to grab it, answering with a shaking jab to the screen. “ _What, Charlie_?”

“Jesus, I know heat’s rough but no need to be such a sour puss,” Charlie says over the line. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine!” Dean says with far too much vehemence to be in any way believable as he turns away from the freaked out, naked alpha in his bed. Dean’s naked too which is _awesome_.

“You do not sound fine,” Charlie says and Dean rolls his eyes.

“I…” Dean starts but, shit, he can’t explain this in front of Castiel. He stumbles into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. “Ok. I’m not fine. I may have done something really dumb.”

“Dean, you know I was joking about fucking the bellhop,” Charlie replies. Dean’s cheeks heat in shame because Charlie probably thinks that’s still a joke. Or she did until Dean was quiet for too long. “Dean, please tell me you didn’t fuck the bellhop.”

“I didn’t fuck the bellhop!” Dean snarls and at least that’s technically true.

“Good, because you know what sort of shit can happen with heat sex."

Dean swallows because he’d never worried about sex during his heats enough to really consider those risk and now… “I’m not an idiot, Charlie,” Dean says, completely contrary to reality. “I have the situation…under control.”

“Are you going to be okay for the meeting?”

The meeting. Though Dean feels clearer now than he has in days, he still completely forgot the reason Novak was even there.

“Fuck…I mean. Yes. The meeting…I’m uh…”

“I can hear you, you know.” Castiel’s voice is muffled but still easily heard through the door and Dean groans.

“Dean, what did you do?” Charlie demands. “Who was –”

“Goodbye, Charlie!” Dean snaps and hangs up. He grabs a towel to wrap around himself as he emerges from the bathroom to face Castiel.

The guy is standing by the door looking worried and confused. At least he has his boxers back on. “We need to talk.”

“No shit,” Dean says before he can think the better of it and pushes back into the room. It’s a disaster of clothes and sheets, and the scent of sex is still heavy in the air. Dean spins when he feels something soft touch his shoulder. Castiel is holding the discarded robe out to Dean, his face unreadable. “Thanks,” Dean mutters as he takes the robe and puts it on carefully, trying to think of what to say.

“Are you alright?”

“Please don’t fucking fire me,” Dean says at the exact same time and Castiel squints in confusion.

“I don’t have the authority to cancel your contract and even if so, I wouldn’t allow what – transpired to affect your livelihood,” Castiel says, flat and serious as usual. He considers something then looks down, almost penitent. “Of course you would have the right to notify my superiors of my behavior and repercussions would be merited for me…I should just go.” He makes a move for his shirt and Dean acts out of pure instinct, lunging to grab Castiel by the wrist.

“No!” Dean yelps, unfamiliar fear shooting through him. He stares at the alpha, breath coming panicked and shallow. There’s worry in Castiel’s scent, and curiosity and confusion in his eyes, as Dean lets go of him. “Please, uh…please stay and…we’ll figure this out. I am not telling anyone about what just happened. Scout’s fuckin’ honor. I ain’t getting you fired.”

“I took advantage of you in an extremely vulnerable position.” Castiel stubbornly meets Dean’s eyes. Only now does Dean realize the alpha is actually an inch or two shorter than him, which seems contrary to how commanding he is, even when beating up himself. Dean mentally punches himself for the thought but also really wishes the guy would put on a shirt.

“Okay, for one: take that weak, vulnerable omega bullshit and kindly shove it up your ass. And two: I was strung out, yeah, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one who jumped you so…no hard feelings or whatever. I was an idiot and dragged you along, I’m sure you’re not surprised.”

Castiel stares at Dean like he can’t quite comprehend his words. “I still don’t quite understand. Why did you come to Chicago if you were going into heat?”

Dean sighs. Of course Castiel just assumes he’s a moron. “I didn’t, okay? I’m on suppressants and I just…sort of forgot to take them the last few days cause I was caught up in work and then flying yesterday stressed me out and fucked with me.”

“You don’t like flying?” Castiel asks, blinking. Of all the things that he could have picked to focus on, Dean wasn’t anticipating it would be that one.

“Uh, yeah; fuckin’ hate it,” Dean says. “But the point is: I didn’t mean for this to happen, but now I have to figure out a way to deal with it, at least for this damn meeting.”

“We.”

It’s Dean’s turn to blink in confusion. “We?”

“This project is very important to me. I’ve been advocating it for four months and your work deserves a fair presentation,”

“Which I really won’t be able to give if I’m a panting, sweaty, horny mess in your board room,” Dean finishes and sinks to the bed in despair. Again Castiel looks at him like Dean just grew antlers or something. “What?”

“You’re not though. Right now. I can still smell the heat, but you seem perfectly fine.”

Dean’s starting to think that he actually is as dumb and useless as Castiel thinks. Or that the guy fucked away Dean’s last functioning brain cell. He does feel fine – a bit antsy, maybe – but the fever and aches are gone. He still wants to climb Castiel like a tree every time he breathes too deeply, but it’s manageable. “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess Charlie was right.”

“Your coworker? Who you were just talking to?”

“She’s an omega too and, uh, better with this shit than me but, yeah…Heat’s sorta like going through withdrawal.” Castiel raises an eyebrow at that because of course he assumes the worst. “Not that I know, I’ve just heard!”

“I’m still not following the metaphor.”

Dean sighs. “Do I have to spell it out? Omegas’ bodies freak out until we get a hit of dick.”

Dean might be mistaken but it looks like the alpha is blushing. He clears his throat and looks away. “And so you’ll be alright now because we…” Castiel continues to avoid Dean’s eyes and licks his lips, but Dean can smell the telltale hint of desire.

“Fucked. Yeah.”

Castiel is definitely blushing and Dean is having a very hard time not finding it weirdly attractive. Probably normal given that the sex, while epically stupid, was fucking amazing. But he is not thinking about that, damnit. “How long does it last?” Castiel asks stiffly.

“Hell if I know, I’ve never uh –” Dean stops himself as Castiel’s eye snap up to him, wide and alert. Dean really shouldn’t be giving this guy any more reason to think he’s a freak but, too late. “Never done anything with, uh, someone else while I was…” Well, now Dean’s cheeks are burning and there’s something hungry and possessive in Castiel’s face that should not be giving Dean ideas. Jesus, apparently the heat is still having an effect on him because he should want to punch that look off the guys face and instead he’s…Dean doesn’t even know.

“I…don’t have any pertinent experience, either,” Castiel says, breaking the eye contact between them that had gone on for a bit too long.

“Wow. Not what I expected.” Dean doesn’t realize the thought came out aloud until Castiel furrows his brow in his customary look of grumpy confusion. “I mean you’re an alpha and you, uh seemed to know…” Amazingly, Dean stops himself before he finishes.

“It’s…It’s been a while. I’m clean, by the way.”

Shit, Dean hadn’t even thought of that – among all the other levels of stupid. “Yeah, uh, me too. Also on the birth control injections, cause…well, because. So no worries there.”

Castiel looks distinctly relieved. “We should probably focus on the issue at hand.” Dean’s glad for the redirect but it’s not necessarily a better topic. “We need you functional, for the meeting and-”

“And we don’t know how long we’ve got till I start humping legs.” Castiel’s new look of concern and bewilderment has Dean huffing. “Not literally.”

“Oh.”

Castiel stares at Dean for a long moment, and it would be very easy for Dean to get lost in it again. The alpha’s scent is comforting to Dean in a way he’d only ever associated with people he's close to like Sam or Charlie or Bobby, but at the same time completely different. It’s probably just the heat making him think that, Dean tells himself. Any alpha would get to him in this state, even though he’s pretty clear-headed at the moment. Which brings him back to the issue of how long that’s gonna last.

“Well, I am not calling Charlie about that so…internet it is,” Dean declares.

Castiel gives an uneasy nod and starts looking around, probably for his shirt as Dean digs out his computer from his bag. As Dean gets set up, Castiel hovers a conspicuously safe distance from Dean, fiddling with the shirt that very much is missing buttons thanks to Dean’s earlier enthusiasm.

“I can’t believe I have to look this shit up,” Dean mutters as his finger hover over the keyboard.

“It is surprising that you’re not well informed on the functions of your own body.” Dean gives Castiel a withering glare that has no effect. “However the way reproduction is taught in schools or, not taught…”

“Yeah, well, I missed those days anyway, if any of the schools I went to had ‘em.” This actually gets Castiel to look a bit interested which Dean pointedly ignores.

Dean finally starts typing as Castiel stands awkwardly, as far away from Dean as he can seem to make himself. “You should eat.”

“What?” Dean looks up at the dour alpha.

“I’ve heard that heat can be exhausting and you need...”

Dean rolls his eyes. He can’t figure out if the guy is really concerned or trying to be polite or something else. The recommendation doesn’t sound comfortable on Castiel’s tongue. “Order us some food then.”

Dean tries to tune out the low rumble of Castiel’s voice as he orders room service and focus on the overwhelming amount of websites detailing omega health and ‘heat myths and mistakes’ and other bullshit he usually tries hard not to think about. He remembers now why he avoided this sort of shit for years, just took the drugs or dealt with heats alone. Reading all of it makes him feel weak and pathetic and needy and…

Dean snaps the computer closed as a knock sounds on the door. Oh fuck, he doesn’t want to let some damn waiter into this mess of a room.

“I requested that they knock and leave the food outside the door and just told them to add a thirty dollar tip,” Castiel informs him.

“Oh, uh, thanks."

Castiel retrieves a heavenly smelling tray of food from the hall and they seat themselves at the little table by the window. It’s awkward, considering they’re both still half-naked but Dean doesn’t care because there’s a burger in front of him and that’s all that matters. Two burgers actually.

“They said this was what you ordered last night,” Castiel explains as Dean sets in and he picks up his own burger. “It sounded appealing and –” The alpha’s eyes go wide as Dean moans around a mouth full of beef. He tries to hide his blush behind his own burger but Dean sees it and he can’t say it doesn’t tickle him a bit. At least he’s finally getting Novak to show some emotion. They just had to fuck like animals to break the ice. Dean gives another little noise and Castiel’s cheeks go even redder. They eat in relative peace for a little while until Dean licks some ketchup off his finger and Castiel looks like he might choke. It’s probably really cruel to tease anyone like that, but Dean’s gonna blame it on the hormones or the fact Castiel smells even better than the burgers and maybe it’s still getting to him.

Speaking of.

“So, uh, net says we’ve got in the ballpark of three to six hours after bumping uglies until I start getting all…you know, again,” Dean explains uneasily. He can see Castiel doing the same math in his head that Dean has done already and echoes his look of worry.

“We have a little over four hours until the meeting.”

“Any way we can move it up?” 

“Dean, this is the entire board of DXM. They have business throughout the whole company all day and we can’t just…”

“Crap.” That was Dean’s last hope. At least Castiel looks like he wishes they could, but Dean doesn’t doubt him when he says it’s impossible. Except now he’s looking at Dean with a guilty and tentative expression, as if he’s about to tell him something worse and beg forgiveness.

“We could…” Castiel swallows but doesn’t look away and suddenly Dean understands what he’s suggesting.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean demands, his heart rate rising but not out of the consternation he’s trying to express. “That – what we – what _I_ did back there was a one time thing that I was really hoping we could pretend never happened so we could do our damn jobs and –”

“Well, then it can be a two time thing that we never talk about again so we can _keep_ our damn jobs,” Castiel snaps back and there’s a tone of irritation and command in his voice that gives Dean goosebumps. Fuck.

“So a business fuck. Great.” Dean's brain and mouth are gonna fight this even if his body really likes the idea, because it’s stupid and dangerous in so many ways…he just can’t remember them right now.

“Having sex again would give us the best chance of assuring you’re functional for the presentation,” Castiel argues. “It takes fifteen minutes to get the office, we would want to be there a bit early, and shower before we leave of course…” he mutters, brow furrowing.

“Are you scheduling the optimum time to fuck?” Dean asks in horror and Castiel raises an irritated eyebrow.

“Do you have a better idea?”

Dean’s mouth flaps open and closed a few times and he finds himself doing the same math in his head, much to his dismay. Fuck, he’s really considering this…Damnit, he’s not even considering, he knows he’s going to do this and the hungry omega part of him that he usually keeps caged with drugs and lots of denial is rearing to go. “Well, you don’t have to be so fucking clinical about it, okay?” Dean grumbles finally and Castiel bristles, offended and challenged, in a way that has Dean’s skin heating a bit.

“Noted,” the alpha says, nose flaring as he scents Dean’s interest and arousal.  Dean suppresses a shiver and resolves to make this as difficult as possible for the gorgeous jerk.

“Well, we’ve got time so, uh, fill me in on the board. Who have I got to impress?” Dean says, grabbing the last but of his burger and taking a defiant bite. Castiel gives him a dark look but nods.

“There will be several people at the meeting, you know Zachariah Adler, the VP of development and Anna, the board liaison. Along with them will be the CEO, Mr. Cain. He’s…enigmatic, so don’t expect him to speak much. The board is much more…colorful. There’s Raphael Finnerman, who I’ve never seen smile and Richard Roman, who never stops smiling, both are disquieting.”

“Wait, Dick Roman is on your board?” Dean balks. “The guy that does the shitty motivational speeches?”

“He owns a small share, which was bought from one of the founding shareholders,” Castiel replies. “Additionally there is Eve Mader and the Edlunds.”

“The founders, yeah,” Dean mutters and Castiel looks impressed.

“Carver Edlund hasn’t been terribly involved in the company for a while, however his sister, Amara, is quite a powerful force on the board.”

“So, how many of them are alphas?” Dean asks warily, his stomach turning at the idea of walking to a room in heat with any alpha but the one with him.

Castiel swallows. “At least three of them, however Raphael and Carver Edlund are mated.” That eases Dean’s fear just a bit. “As is Eve, though she’s a beta.”

“So who’s the other alpha? Roman?” Dean asks, shoving some fries in his mouth.

Castiel shakes his head. “Ms. Edlund.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and Castiel just nods. “Now, to specifics of the presentation.”

Castiel starts in and Dean’s actually pretty impressed. He’s obviously read the materials Dean sent before flying out and explains what things he’s changed and how the presentation will go, from memory no less. Dean chimes in at a few spots to correct something or make a small suggestion, but overall Castiel seems to know the project better than Dean, which is kind of amazing considering Dean’s been living and breathing this housing development for months. Castiel at least is in his right mind, which Dean isn’t sure he is because he keeps getting distracted by the guy’s mouth. And the eyes. Hands too. And it’s a shame he had to put his shirt and boxers back on.

“Of course, we’ll have to deal with code enforcement and licensing even with the changes we’ve made, which is always troublesome but…” Castiel is saying and Dean just nods, because the smell of the food is gone entirely and it’s just Castiel’s perfect smoky, woodsy scent now; it has Dean’s mouth dry and his hands fidgeting. “Dean?”

Dean blinks. Did he miss a question? “Uh, yeah?”

“I asked if you have any code enforcement contacts in Oregon,” Castiel repeats slowly, eyes narrowed.

“I, uh, yeah, we know a guy,” Dean mutters and fidgets more as Castiel stares. “What?”

“You seem agitated.” The alpha looks Dean over from head to toe, as much as he can with Dean across the table swathed in a fluffy robe. His scent shifts subtly, from warm and content to something enticing and aroused.  “Are your…symptoms returning?”

“Maybe,” Dean replies tightly because he does not want to admit that somewhere in the last few minutes his only though became how much he wants to feel Castiel’s gorgeous dick in him again. He’s not gonna actually say that of course. He probably doesn’t have to judging by how Castiel’s eyes have darkened as he catches Dean’s heat-sweetened scent. “Is this ahead of your schedule?” Dean asks petulantly.

“Yes, but…” Castiel licks his lips thoughtfully, and suddenly the awkwardness is gone and the no-nonsense boss is back in force. “Perhaps things can be adjusted.”

Dean rolls his eyes and in the split second he’s not looking, the alpha is on him, hauling him up by his robe and, jesus fuck, _growling_.

“Holy shit,” Dean whispers, suddenly feeling like the temperature in the room went up twenty degrees. The alpha’s grip loosens just a bit but Dean grabs his wrists, a challenge in his eyes.

“Would you like me to continue?” Castiel demands, his breath hot against Dean’s face and his voice astonishingly lower. His eyes are hesitant though. For some reason that makes Dean’s cock go fully hard and he wants nothing more than to break that resolve and see what this alpha can do.

“Continue what? All I see right now is a grumpy alpha with a time management kink,” Dean taunts and the fire flares back into Castiel’s face before he crashes his mouth into Dean’s.

The taste of Castiel, the scent of him as he pushes off Dean’s robe and devours the omega’s mouth, sends the heat that had just been ramping back up into overdrive. Castiel licks and nibbles at Dean’s jaw and neck. For a brief second Dean wants to beg him to bite down harder, mark Dean as his mate, but he’s not that insane yet and Castiel seems fine with sucking a hickey into the tender skin.

“No…visible marks…meeting…” Dean manages to get out in a brief moment of lucidity. Cas gives a rumbling noise of displeasure but moves his attentions away, grazing his teeth along Dean’s collarbone as his hands roam over Dean’s bare torso. Dean’s dick is hot and hard between them, pressed against the answering bulge in Castiel’s shorts. Dean cants his hips towards Castiel, begging for some attention to be paid. The alpha grabs Dean’s hips and grinds against him as he reclaims Dean’s mouth.

“Fuck…” Dean breathes, breaking apart, his head spinning from pleasure.

“Eventually.”

Dean wants to make a smartass remark but Castiel is intent on other goals, pushing Dean back onto the bed and staring down at him like prey as he strips off his shirt and boxers.

“Fuck, you’re hotter than you have any right to be,” Dean says as he scrambles back on the bed, feeling the slick seeping between his cheeks as he moves. Castiel either doesn’t care about the backhanded compliment or choses to ignore Dean in favor of crawling over to him and commencing to lick at his nipple. Dean lets out a groan of pleasure and shivers as the alpha’s hot tongue laves over the over-sensitive nub. Castiel responds with another low growl and adds teeth. Dean arches off the mattress as Castiel moves a few inches up and begins sucking a mark onto Dean’s skin. “You really wanna mark me, huh Alpha? You think you’ve earned that?”

For a second Dean is afraid he’s being too much of a brat but he looks down to meet Castiel’s gaze and is amazed he doesn’t burst into flames right there.

“I intend to,” Castiel says and starts kissing down Dean’s abdomen, agonizingly slow and methodical. The alpha’s hands are just as a careful as his mouth, touching and exploring thoroughly, barely going near Dean’s cock. It’s maddening and Dean wants to complain but it’s so different from the frenzied want of before. For some reason Castiel is taking his time and Dean should be annoyed because this is a utility fuck to get him in order not something, who knows, _else_. But if Castiel wants to draw this out, Dean is in no position to argue. Literally.

The alpha’s knuckles barely graze Dean’s cock as he sucks a mark onto Dean’s hip and Dean gives a pathetic whimper. He feels drunk again, feverish and floating. He’s had bad heats and good sex in the past but the combination is insanely good, especially with the bonus of the best-smelling alpha he’s ever met.

“So good,” Castiel mutters into the slight softness of Dean’s stomach and it sends a shiver all the way to Dean’s toes. Castiel trails a careful finger over Dean’s swollen cock. “So beautiful.”

“Shit,” is all Dean can say in response because higher brain function is going out the window. Castiel moves, slipping his hands under Dean’s ass then up and down his thighs until he hooks his hands under Dean’s knee and tugs him towards the edge of the bed. Castiel kneels on the floor between Dean’s legs and keeps kissing and touching him. Another careful finger drifts near Dean’s hole and Dean gives a cry of want.

“Wonder if you taste as good as you smell,” Castiel mutters, kissing and biting down Dean’s thigh. And that makes no sense because he already has his mouth on Dean but…

“Fuck!” Dean groans at the first flick of Castiel’s tongue at the tip of Dean’s dick. Castiel does it again, giving his own hum of pleasure as he taste Dean’s precome. God, looking down at the Alpha flattening his tongue over the head of Dean’s cock then taking him into his mouth is the hottest thing Dean’s ever seen.

Dean doesn't get his cock sucked enough. Most partners aren’t really into it with omegas, but he’s pretty sure it’s never felt quite this good. Castiel goes slow, still excruciatingly careful. He alternates between licking and sucking, taking more and more of Dean in by minute increments, all the while, his hands gently stroking Dean’s ass and thighs where they rest against Castiel’s shoulders. Dean’s big for an omega, both his body and his dick, but he’s not too much for Castiel to take entirely into his gorgeous mouth at last. gag reflex be damned. Dean tries to stay still, resist the urge to fuck up into his alpha’s mouth as Castiel hums and swallows around Dean but it’s almost impossible. Dean is leaking slick and every time Castiel’s fingers tease at his hole he whimpers at that hint of penetration that doesn’t come. Dean’s hands grope at the sheets, trying to find something to hold onto as his pleasure spins to a dizzying peak.

“Fuck, _Cas_ -” Dean can’t even finish the name because he’s about to come but…he doesn’t. Because Castiel has a hand tight on Dean’s dick and _isn’t letting him_. He’s kissing Dean’s thighs and pushing Dean’s legs farther apart and this is torture. He knew this guy was an asshole. “Shit! What the hell are you…Oh god…”

If Castiel’s hand wasn’t clamped around Dean’s dick, he’s pretty sure he would come just from the feeling of the alpha’s tongue breaching his hole. The sound Dean makes is nothing close to words, it’s more like a yell because no one has ever, _ever_ done this to him. He’d been too shy or too caught up in his issues to ask for it and everyone had usually just wanted to stick their dicks in him or take his. God, he regrets it because it feels more that amazing. His alpha seems to like it almost as much as Dean, moaning between Dean’s legs as he massages Dean’s balls with his hand and laps at Dean with his tongue. A finger joins Castiel’s tongue and pushes into Dean and Dean’s pretty sure he’s just going to die right there, because heat or no, it’s so good. Castiel is still going slow, ignoring Dean’s intermittent babble of “please” and “fuck yes” and “Cas.” His mouth moves back to Dean’s dick, then to his sac then back to his hole and Dean’s so wound tight and strung out he can barely remember his name. Castiel adds a second finger, his other hand finally starting to jack Dean’s cock. Dean wants his mouth though, but he can’t say where. He just needs…

Cas surges up from between Dean’s leg, his hot cock dragging over Dean’s stomach and bites the same spot right above Dean’s nipple again. He sucks hard, just as he bends his fingers just right and hits Dean’s prostate. Dean comes staggeringly hard. He groans, long and low as he pulses come between them and Cas just keeps sucking his claim onto Dean’s skin.

“Goddamn…” Dean sighs as Cas pulls away to reveal the raised red mark his lips and teeth have left on Dean’s chest. It’s not a mating bite but it might as well be for the way it makes Dean feel absolutely owned in the best way possible. Shit. He’s screwed. His mind is still swimming from the heat and the orgasm but he knows this is really bad. Or really good. He’s not even sure. He looks up into the alpha’s face and decides it doesn’t matter, not right now.

“What was that?” Dean asks, his words returning temporarily, but obviously not his reason.

“I heard omegas in heat were capable of multiple orgasm,” Cas states, his voice so deep and rough it should be only audible to certain species of elephant soon. “And I assume a more…satisfying experience might yield more long-lasting result for your lucidity.”

“Holy fuck, Cas, you are a piece of work,” Dean says but his body _loves_ this idea, as his spent dick twitches in interest. Cas just smiles and kisses Dean deep and long, pulling Dean fully onto the bed like he’s a ragdoll before breaking away to trail his mouth down Dean’s body. He gives his mark one more kiss that makes Dean hiss and then turn his attention to the pool of come on Dean’s stomach. Cas gives it an experimental lick and Dean has to fight to keep his eyes from rolling all the way back in his head at the obscene hotness of the sight.

“You do taste as good as you smell,” Cas rumbles against Dean’s belly and proceeds to lick up the whole mess drop by drop as Dean watches. Dean feels like his skin is on fire, like he can barely get a deep breath, and he seriously entertains the thought this is just a really good hallucination. Cas finishes his task and just keeps kissing him, all over, as his fingers trail gentle over Dean’s sides.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Dean asks as Cas’s hand trails past Dean’s cock, which is already half hard again. What’s more than that, his hole is achingly empty and ridiculously wet as the alpha easily slips two fingers inside. Dean moans, glancing down to look hungrily at where Cas’s own dick hangs hard and neglected between his legs.

“That would be unproductive,” Cas replies to the question Dean almost forgot asking. It makes Dean give a high hysterical laugh that melts into a whine of pleasure as Cas adds another finger, massaging Dean open even though he’s been ready for the alpha’s cock for what feels like years.

“Then fucking get in me,” Dean commands as he meets his alpha’s lust filled eyes.

Dean’s worried Cas is going to ask again if he’s sure, but he doesn’t. He withdraws his hand, grips Dean, then slides into him in one fluid, perfect movement. Their eyes lock as their bodies fit together, perfect and inevitable. There’s something about it that’s like a splash of cold water, bringing Dean out of his haze and into the terrifying reality of the present. They’re fucking face to face this time and Cas is looking at him like…god, Dean doesn’t know, but it’s a certainly not just lust and it scares the shit out of Dean.

“Move, alpha,” Dean orders, thrusting his hips against Castiel and that breaks the moment. Dean lets the hazy pleasure of heat and sex and how fucking good it feels to be completely filled wash over him. Cas fucks him slow, their bodies meeting in an unhurried rhythm that steadily ramps up.

“You feel…” Cas starts so say something but Dean squeezes tight around him and the words are cut off by a moan. He opens his mouth again but Dean pulls him down into a kiss. He starts moving faster, more frantic. Dean’s right there to meet him, his body trembling with building tension waiting for release. He’s always felt so helpless in heat. It was like flying, sort of. All the excitement and magic of it lost because of all of Dean’s built up bullshit and brokenness. And there’s still a bit off that now, but…it’s different. This is more like speeding down the road in his baby, so fast he might take off but still safe on the ground.

Dean shuts his eyes and kisses and scents at Cas’s neck as his alpha fucks into him harder and faster. The warm scent of autumn, of forests and rain and a wood fire and home fill Dean’s lungs. The first catch of Cas’s swelling knot makes him whimper and he clamps his mouth onto the meat of Castiel’s shoulder to stifle the needy, desperate sound. Cas makes a guttural, primal noise and Dean can’t tell if it’s a word or a name or just a sound of pleasure. It doesn’t matter, his alpha’s knot slides in and out of him, grazing his prostate with each stroke until it catches within Dean. Cas’s hand slides between them. He grabs Dean’s cock and jerks Dean as he pounds him with the short, powerful thrust that are all he can manage. Dean bites down on his alpha’s shoulder as he comes, the orgasm making his whole body buckle and shudder around Cas as he follows Dean over the edge.

Dean lets his head fall back, eyes closed as the last aftershocks pulse through them. It’s nice to just float and feel safe and completed for a few moments, not thinking, not worrying. Just listening to their breath slowing in tandem and enjoy the glow. Cas adjusts his position above him, reminding Dean that they’re still joined, but he falls on the feels good side of the spectrum regarding that rather than the freaky.

“You can rest if you like, I’ll watch the time,” the alpha says and Dean finally cracks an eye open again. There are certainly worse things to look at than the sight that meets his eyes. Cas’s hair is a disaster and his face is still flushed and glowing from the exertion, lips bright and plush and eyes that could give sapphires a run for their money. Jesus, Dean’s brain is still swimming in hormones and endorphins and that’s the only reason he’s thinking this way.

“Uh,” Dean says because he honestly can’t remember the question for a second. Cas is looking at him wary and a bit worried. Oh. Right. “I, uh, I’m okay. But maybe we can uh, resituate…”

“Yes of course.”

Moving while knotted it weird and awkward, but they manage it, ending up with Dean sort of sitting in Cas’s lap with the alpha propped on the only pillow that didn’t get knocked off the bed. They use a sheet to wipe up Dean’s come from their stomach as best they can and push it away.

 “This is sort of weird,” Dean says, because why bother with a brain-mouth filter when someone’s dick is stuck in you for a while.

“Awkward would be a word for it, yes,” Cas mutters in reply and Dean finds himself laughing.

“I’m sure it’s not usually this weird.”

Cas very obviously tries to avoid Dean’s eyes at that statement, which only increases Dean’s interest. “I haven’t –” They’re close enough that Dean can see the blush rising in Cas's cheeks. “Been in this situation-”

“For a while. You said,” Dean finishes for him and the alpha gives a stiff nod that isn’t very convincing.

“Oh god, please tell me you were not a virgin. That’s impossible, what you were doing before with the…”

“I wasn’t a virgin!” Cas snaps and finally looks in Dean’s eyes. “I’ve never been with an omega before is all.”

“Oh.” Dean blinks, not sure what to make of that. “Well, obviously I’ve never really, been with an alpha…uh, like this, before. So. Even?”

“We should talk about something else.” Castiel has apparently reverted from sex god to regular jerk who is annoyed and unimpressed with Dean.

Dean scowls. “Fine. Since apparently we’re making the most of this. How’s the weather been here this fall?”

“Unseasonably wet,” Cas grumbles back.

“Sexy.” For a second Dean shrinks at the look of the annoyance in the alpha’s eyes. He has to remind himself that this isn’t _his_ alpha, not matter what his sex-addled omega-brain might have think and even if he is, it’s sort of fun messing with him.

“Why don’t you like flying?” Cas asks out of nowhere and Dean has to work a bit to catch up.

“That’s a little personal,” Dean evades and Cas casts a quick look to their tangled bodies and raises an eyebrow. “Ok, point made. I, uh…” Dean wants to look away but Cas's eyes are earnest and curious, which just makes the words harder to find. This guy already thinks so little of him (he has to keep reminding himself of that), he doesn’t need Dean’s sob story.

“I hate it.” Dean draws back, confused at the declaration. Also confused by how Cas’s hands are resting gently on Dean’s thighs and stroking small circles with this thumbs as he goes on. “Planes are too confining. And crowded and cramped. My family also traveled so much when I was a child that I think I got all my time in the sky taken care of before I was eighteen. And I hate pretzels.”

“But you still have to fly for work.” Dean says and Cas gives a long sigh.

“I drive if I can manage it, which isn’t very often.”

“Hell yeah, nothing better than the open road.” Dean finds himself smiling as he says that. “And you’ve got a pretty sweet ride, if you had to have something current.” It takes Cas a moment to process that. He looks at Dean in that way that’s always made Dean squirm before, even when Cas was just the face on a screen, like he’s looking inside of Dean to find all the flaws and broken bits.

“I assume you drive something…vintage,” Cas says slowly. A defiant grin spreads over Dean’s face.

“Sixty-seven Chevy Impala.” Cas actually looks impressed “You know cars?”

“I like objects with character and history. I bought a Lincoln because I learned to drive a seventy-eight continental.” Dean can’t help but chuckle at that image but Cas doesn’t seem to mind. “Cars had more personality back then.”

“My baby has that in spades. Learned to drive on her too.” Dean swallows but figures maybe it is fair to share. “She was my dad’s but my mom loved her too. I always wondered if they got up to the same stuff in the back seat as I did when I was a teen.” Dean finds himself holding Cas’s gaze and feeling a bit lightheaded. He actually doesn’t look disappointed or turned off. “My mom died in a plane crash when I was ten.”

“I’m sorry.” The words come instantly, but there’s nothing automatic about them. They don’t have the same tired sympathy Dean’s used to when he gets around to revealing that little tragic detail. It’s something more and it makes Dean want to bury his face in this alpha’s shoulder and never leave this room and crawl out of his skin at the same time.

“Me too,” Dean says and he tries to ignore that they’re somehow having a moment. Or another moment, if you count whatever was going on when they were banging. Which he’s not going to do. And he’s not going to think about this too hard either. “So, Continental. What color?”

Cas squints at him for a half second, probably contemplating Dean’s idiocy, but better that than whatever was going on before. “Gold.”

“What were you, a pimp?”

“College was expensive,” Cas replies without missing a beat.

Dean barks out a laugh in shock as much as anything. “Holy fuck, you do have a sense of humor.”

“Occasionally.”

“Wonders never cease I guess,” Dean says quietly, looking down at the man beneath him. He’s been trying really hard not to feel too good about the whole situation, no matter how physically nice it’s been or how great Cas is to look at. They’re eventually going to have to keep working together and Dean doesn’t need his next skype call with this guy getting derailed by fun memories of how good his dick felt…Who is Dean kidding, that’s inevitable now. “Um, Sorry. By the way,” Dean mutters. “For getting you mixed up in all this.”

“It’s alright,” Cas says, and his tone is pretty convincing.

“At least we got some good sex out of it,” Dean says because he clearly incapable of not being inappropriate or an idiot for more than five minutes. Cas looks rightly flustered.

“It was…very enjoyable,” the alpha agrees and it buoys Dean a bit. 

“Gonna make working together sort of hard,” Dean dares to say aloud and concern darkens Castiel’s face.

“I can arrange for someone else to take my place on the project, if that would make you more comfortable."

Dean’s surprised that the prospect of not seeing Cas regularly sets his heart beating in panic, given that he would have thanked the gods for that offer twelve hours ago. “No, please don’t do that,” Dean says earnestly.

“The most important thing is making sure this project is completed and if my involvement will compromise that I should –”

Dean feels a bit cliché kissing him to shut him up but it works. And it feels so good and warm and right, all the way down to his bones. The agitation that had been rising in their mingled scents dissipates as Dean gently moves his mouth against Cas’s until the alpha is fully relaxed again. "You said yourself, you’ve worked on this for a long time, you deserve to stay part of it,” Dean says when he pulls back. “Though God knows why you’d want to,” he adds, remembering the endless redesigns and notes and critiques.

“I believe in it. And in you, and your talent.”

“What?” Dean sort of wants to laugh at the absurdity of Cas saying that but he’s too shocked.

“That can’t be surprising, Dean.” Cas looks genuinely concerned and confused. “You’re an incredibly gifted architect and designer.”

“You just spent the last two months tearing everything I designed apart!” Dean snaps and Cas just cocks his head. “You hate my work.”

“I never thought your work was bad, Dean, I was only trying to make it better, because I knew you could do it,” Cas explains and Dean feels like he’s suddenly talking to a pod person. Cas wanting to fuck him he can handle: he’s an omega and in heat and if he smells half as good to Cas as he does to Dean, he can’t blame him. But this? Complimenting Dean? Treating him like a person? This is too weird.

“You don’t even like me,” Dean blurts out and realizes the moment he says it how ridiculous it sounds. Cas actually looks sort of hurt by the statement and now that Dean’s bothering to think, there’s nothing in the way Cas has treated him from the moment he opened the door today that matches with that idea.

Cas swallows and steels himself. “You are extremely annoying and frustrating in _many_ ways, but…I do…enjoy you.”

“Wow, Cas, don’t get too mushy on me,” Dean says and Cas rolls his eyes. The sarcasm doesn’t diminish the moment though and Dean is left feeling thrown and very confused.

“I had actually hoped, before you–” Cas is interrupted by the wet sound of his cock slipping out of Dean, his knot having gone down finally.

“Oh gross,” Dean groans at the feel of slick and come trickling onto their thighs. There’s nothing he can do to make it less disgusting as he finally climbs off Cas, but at least he can try to not be an asshole. “The shower’s big enough for two if you don’t wanna wait.”

“Um, thank you,” Cas says, rising stiffly from the bed.

They make their way in to the big, fancy hotel shower without talking. The shower is nice, with one of those big shower heads that make it feel like rain, that for once is high enough that Dean doesn’t hit his head on it. Dean stands under the stream, Cas close at his back, and lets the hot water rush over him. It’s almost as relaxing as the sex, and if he didn’t have the meeting to freak out about he’d really want to take a nap right after. Curling up next to Cas, comforted by the scent of happy, homey alpha sounds pretty heavenly really…almost as nice as the feeling of Cas’s soapy hands on Dean.

“Are you washing me?” Dean asks, not so much irritated as curious.

“I’m finding the idea of you washing my scent off very…unsettling. Doing it myself helps.”

Dean shrugs and lets him keep going 'cause it feels good, especially when Cas starts lathering up his hair and massaging his scalp. There’s part of him that knows he should be freaking out more about all of this, about the sex and now the non-sex intimate naked time, about the fact that everything he thought about Castiel Novak might have been wrong and how it makes him weirdly happy and…all of it. But he’s not. He’s content and taken care of right now and damn it if he’s not gonna milk it before he has to head back out into reality.

When his hair is clean he maneuvers Cas under the water, facing him, and returns the washing favor. He thinks a bit about what Cas said about not liking that his smell was off Dean. Maybe it’s an alpha thing. The thought isn’t terribly pleasant to Dean either. He would much rather go out smelling like Cas. He’d certainly feel a bit safer, even if people would get the wrong impression…or the completely right one.

Cas’s eyes stray to Dean’s chest as Dean washes his hair. The alpha trails his thumb over the plum-colored mark he left on Dean’s chest. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay I –” _like it_ , Dean almost says and stops himself. “I got you too.” Dean touches the very clear impression of his teeth on Castiel’s shoulder and the alpha gives a weak smile.

Dean shuts off the water and they shuffle out of the shower in silence, quiet but not awkward. They move around each other easily, Cas exiting the bathroom first while Dean finishes getting ready. He regretfully slathers on blockers and Cas scrunches his nose in displeasure when Dean comes in to riffle through his bag for underwear. He puts on two pairs just to be safe. Cas heads back into the bathroom and Dean grabs his phone from where it had landed on the floor, under a few blankets.

He has twenty-two text messages and three missed calls. Fuck. There’s a few well wishes for the meeting from Bobby and Kevin and lots of emojis from Garth, then increasingly worried check-ins from Sam and about a dozen “what the fuck did you do?” messages from Charlie. Of course those two are behind the missed calls.

Dean fires off a few “everything is fine” texts and stops to consider if they’re lies. He does feel…pretty good. Still maybe a bit antsy and achy, a bit warm, but he’s okay. He’s got to keep his mind off sex, which is hard with Cas still wandering around naked, but he should be fine for the meeting. And Cas will be there, so that’s a thing.

Dean starts pulling on his suit. Sam packed the grey wool one, which will at least give Dean an excuse if he seems hot. When Dean turns around, Cas has his pants on and is looking at his half button-less shirt in dismay. “Oh crap.”

“I have an extra at the office but…”

“You probably don’t wanna walk through the secretarial pool looking like Fabio."

Cas nods. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Here.” Dean strips off the white oxford he had just put on an tosses it to Cas, who catches it with a look of confusion. “It’ll be big but it beats the alternative.”

“People might think…”

“We’ll say I spilled coffee on you while we were working on the presentation.” Cas gives a slow nod and puts on the shirt while Dean finds another. Sam also packed a nice dark blue number that will go fine with the dark suit. The only tie he has though is bright red silk and that clashes terribly with the shirt. “Damn…”

“Here.” Cas steps easily into Dean’s space, taking the red tie from Dean’s hand and confidently slipping Cas’s own blue tie around Dean’s neck. He knots it with nimble, efficient finger. When Cas smooths the tie down his hands graze the spot where his mark on Dean’s chest is hidden and Dean finds his mouth has gone a bit dry.

“Thanks,” Dean says far too softly. He takes a deep breath, unabashedly enjoying having the scent of Cas now fixed around his neck. He places his own tie on Cas, much less steady in tying it but Cas still gives a small smile that makes Dean wonder what the fuck they’ve gotten themselves into.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and questions always welcome.
> 
>  
> 
> [Come say hi to me over on tumblr!](http://ibelieveinthelittletreetopper.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I owed everyone a little something to distract from the election.
> 
> SPOILER/WARNING: There is a small instance of someone making some unwanted sexual advances on Dean in this chapter. It's in line with their cannon behavior so, you'll see it coming but I wanted to warn just in case.

Dean doesn’t really start freaking out until they get to the shiny corporate headquarters of DXM. Before they left he'd made a jokes about leaving an extra tip for the poor housekeeping staff that had to deal with the hotel room and Cas had actually dropped two twenties on the bedside table, then the ride over in Cas’s Lincoln had been pretty pleasant if too short. Stepping out of the elevator full of their own mingled scent and into the too-cold office is a whole different thing. Dean has to keep himself from shrinking closer to Cas at the barrage of unfamiliar scents and the pristine, marble floors and glass walls that automatically make him feel like he’s in some sort of fish tank. Anna Milton is the first to greet them, her smile tense and a posture a bit too straight.

“Nice of you to make it in, Castiel,” Anna says, colder than Dean has ever heard her in their brief interactions. She turns her attention to Dean and he can see her scenting, trying to figure him out. This is the first test. Between the blockers and Cas’s scent on him, Dean hopes the smell of his heat is covered up. Anna seems to consider something but mostly looks at Dean like he’s something on her shoe then turns away. One interaction down, a few hundred more to go. He can do this. Maybe. “The board has already arrived and is taking care of usual business in the conference room. If you’d like to wait in your office, I’ll call when they’re ready for you.”

“Thank you, Anna,” Cas says and guides Dean though the sleek halls with a gentle hand on his back. Dean doesn’t need to be coddled or helped along, damn it, but he doesn’t mind the contact either. His nerves are ramping up and his brain is starting to speed through all the different scenarios where the board laughs him out of the room because who would want an omega moron who barely got into college designing for them and… “Dean. Breathe.”

Dean looks up at blue eyes. They’re standing in a nice, boring office with a cheesy motivational poster on the wall that Dean recognizes from all those skype sessions with Cas. “I’m gonna fuck this up.”

“No you’re not,” Cas replies immediately. “I can’t smell your heat, and I-”

“Screw my heat, I’m talking about _me_ ,” Dean protests, beginning to pace in the too small space. “They’re gonna take one look at my shit designs and –”

“ _Dean_.”

Dean’s attention snaps back to the alpha that has stepped much too far into his personal space to be office appropriate. Cas’s expression is deathly serious and yet it fills Dean with a warm sense of calm. He can feel the warmth from the alpha’s body and smell him all around. Dean’s safe for now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t fuck up when they go into that meeting.

“Do you believe I’m good at my job?” Cas demands as if still reading Dean’s negative thoughts.

“Yeah, of course. What does that have to do-”

“Do you trust me?”

Dean blinks at that because it’s a dumb question, but also because twelve hours ago the answer would have been _hell no_. Now though… “Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say that my professional judgement of your work is that it is exemplary and my personal confidence in you and how prepared we both are for this presentation is very high.” Cas’s voice is firm and he has the expression of a man who will brook no disagreement. It makes Dean feel a lot of things: surprised, cowed, bolstered, and maybe even a little bit turned on.

“I’m gonna do something really dumb right now, and don’t read anything into it, it probably just the heat and stuff,” Dean says and Cas looks adorably confused for a moment before Dean leans in and kisses him. It’s not a sexy kiss, or particularly hard or deep. But their lips touching still hits Dean like shot of good whiskey, makes him dizzy and warm and calm. It’s all he can do to say thank you for…everything.

The phone ringing cuts off any opportunity for them to linger when Dean pulls away. Cas sends Dean a look before answering. “Are they ready? Yes, thank you, Anna.”

Dean heaves one more sigh and gives Cas a determined nod. “Let’s kick it in the ass.”

Dean can see the board through the glass walls of the conference room when they arrive. Anna is waiting outside, still frowning but Dean is starting to get the sense her issue is with Cas and not with him. Or maybe it’s just a stressful day. He can sympathize. He assumes she’s a beta, judging by her muted scent, but Dean’s not focusing on her too much. He can see a long table where the board of DXM has assembld, with a screen set at the head of it where Dean and Cas will present. They’ll have their backs to a huge window where the Chicago skyline and Lake Michigan shine bright in the early autumn sun. Before Dean can appreciate the view, Adler catches sigh of them and waves them in.

“Good luck,” Anna mutters as they enter and Dean feels kinda like he’s going into his execution.

Stepping into a _fucking den of alphas_ makes him almost certain of it. The large room stinks of alpha aggression and dominance and Anna’s warning tone immediately makes sense. Dean walks perhaps a bit closer to his alpha out of pure instinct. Even without looking Dean can sense Cas’s hackles rising in response to the hostility in the room but it’s almost imperceptible. Sweat prickles under Dean’s collar and he swallows as he surveys the crowd.

Dean can pick out Eve Mader immediately, she’s the only beta in the room besides Adler, and the only person that smell even remotely calm, though Dean can’t be sure. Raphael and Dick Roman are seated next to her, radiating discontent and hungry aggression. Raphael’s scent at least is tempered by the underlying note of being mated, though that doesn’t mean as much for an alpha as an omega. The two seem more interested in glaring at other board members than checking out Cas and Dean. That’s not really the side of the room that scares Dean. Across the table, on the side Dean and Cas walk by with Cas very conspicuously shielding Dean, are three alphas like nothing Dean’s smelled before. Dean can’t put faces to the scents until he reaches the head of the conference table. The closest to him is a man with ice-blue eyes and beard who radiates quiet power in every aspect, not just his slightly acrid, coppery scent. Dean’s only smelled an undertone like that with his father, perhaps that means this man – Cain, he guesses since the other two smell like siblings and must be the Edlunds – probably lost his mate. Beside him has to be Carver Edlund. He looks small enough to be an omega, but then again Dean’s bigger than most alphas so that doesn’t mean much. On the end is his sister: high cheekbones and a dark look in her face. Their scents are like two sides of the same coin and Dean would wonder if that was the case for him and Sam if they didn’t smell fucking _terrifying_. Carver Edlund at least smells mated, but the sister smells of gasoline and wind and hunger. She gives Dean an appraising look that gives him chills.

“And now, as promised, a preview of our newest West Coast project,” Adler announces, stepping back from his place at the head of the table. Dean ducks closer than appropriate to Cas and takes a deep breath of his scent like it’s a drug. “We’ve partnered with Winchester Brothers for the design element and we’re quite excited with what we’ve come up with,” Adler goes on as Dean lets the smell of Cas steady him.

“You’ll be fine,” Cas whispers, letting his hand brush Dean’s.

Dean gives a nod as he straightens up and turns to the room with a the best fake grin he can muster. “Howdy,” Dean says and at least Carver Edlund smiles.

“Good afternoon,” Cas says and the projector clicks on, showing one of Dean’s sketches of what the neighborhood they hope to build might one day look like. “The Blackberry Ridge neighborhood will tap into an underserved segement in one of the faster grown real esate markets in the country by offering modern, unique designs with the highest standard of green construction and efficiency. When Dean and his brother presented their vision they explained it was not just homes they wanted to design but a lifestyle."

“My brother and I were rootless for a long time before we ended up in Portland, and when we started building and designing homes, we wanted them to reflect everything about the area that made us want to stay there. Community, consciousness, natural beauty and innovation.” Dean can’t believe how easily the words tumble out of his mouth. He feels a weird surge of hope and pride as Cas picks up the thread.

“When I first encountered the Winchester designs, I was struck not only by their beauty and function, but their uniqueness and character.”

Dean listens to Cas go on, surprised at how inspired Cas makes him and Sam sound. Most of the environmentally friendly stuff had been Sam’s ideas, but Cas also focuses on Dean’s designs, letting Dean chime in and explain the signature elements of the home – bay windows and lofted bedrooms and skylights that will fill the homes with light even in dreary Oregon winters. When Dean actually says that, Cain is the first one to smile. 

They go on, just as planned, trading off talking points and clicking through slides. The board looks pretty interested and every single question they ask turns out to be something Cas had already thought of, and in some cases argued with Dean for a while on. Cas is calm and prepared and yields to Dean easily as they go on and it feels almost as effortless as when he made the initial pitch with Sam. Of course, it isn’t effortless – or wasn’t. They’ve worked on this for months and somewhere along the way Cas apparently was making sure Dean was ready and had the best designs possible. Dean tries not to focus too much on feeling like a tool and more on describing the community green spaces that integrate smart storm water management features. The nagging threat of his heat is pushed to the back of his mind as they talk. Any time he starts to feel too warm or the overwhelming smell of a room full of alphas threatens to distract him, he concentrates of Cas’s comforting scent, on Cas’s tie around his neck and even the hidden mark on his skin and that’s that.

Before Dean can even start worrying too much, they’re done and the board is giving appreciative nods. Cain rises and shakes both Dean and Castiel’s hands, giving a Dean an appraising look that maybe lasts a second too long, but there’s nothing in his scent indicating aggression. In general all the alphas seem to have calmed down, though now there’s still a few troubling traces of attraction that Dean can make out. Maybe he’s smelling Cas – there’s too many alphas in the room to tell. Or maybe someone just thinks he’s cute – wouldn’t be new. He hopes it’s just his heightened senses from the heat playing tricks on him or paranoia.

“We’ll discuss this for a moment, if you don’t mind waiting,” Cain says smoothly, though Dean notices Adler flashing Cas a quick thumbs up as they exit. Dean fights a shiver as he walk by Amara Edlund at the end of the table. He can feel eyes on him and gets an acrid whiff of alpha desire before they escape the boardroom.

“Holy shit, we did it,” Dean exclaims with an exhale.

“We did,” Cas says and actually smiles. It fades as Anna approaches again, looking wary.

“They should only be a bit longer, they took care of most of their business earlier,” Anna says and gives Dean a very pointed sniff. Her eyes widen and Dean senses Cas go stiff beside him. “That brand of blockers always starts smelling like a dishwasher after 30 minutes.”

“Anna…” Cas warns as Dean’s stomach lurches in panic. She’s not a beta, she's an omega and she knows about Dean – at least that he’s an omega as well. The heat that had patiently retreated for the last hour spikes under Dean’s skin, not in arousal, but in pure, anxious fear.

“You should have borrowed some, Castiel,” Anna goes on. Her expression is a mix of disappointment, annoyance and resignation. “The board doesn’t know your scent but…”

“Milton, Novak, we need you back in here for a minute,” Adler calls, popping his bald head out of the conference room door.

“Wait in my office,” Cas orders, and Dean can smell the alpha's worry .

Dean nods, too panicked himself to speak. He tries to breathe as he follows the hallway back to Cas’s office, going more by scent than memory. So Anna knows. Maybe not all of it, but she knows  _something_. Dean’s broken out in a cold sweat by the time he reaches Cas’s office, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him. He hates his body right now, hates the chemicals in his brain that make he want to fucking curl up on the tiny, uncomfortable looking couch and bury himself in the scent of Cas until the alpha comes back. It isn’t even about sex right now, which is weird. Though sex would be great; he still needs it and wants Cas filling him up, his body reminds him. And _fuck that_ because that part of the day is over. From here he’s going back to the hotel alone and then home and away from Castiel Novak. The thought that he’s not going to be near Cas soon hits Dean like a punch in the stomach and he takes another gulping breath.

What the hell is happening?

Dean paces for a while, then sits on the little couch – not in a ball, just sitting like a normal freaked out nutball and holding his head in his hands. He has to get himself together. It’s the heat. And the stress. His body is still playing with him, he has to remember that. It sucks, but it will be over soon. And Cas is still around right now. He’s just down the hall. Dean will be fine. He just needs to chill, which would be so much easier if his heart would slow down and the cold sweat would fuck off.

The buzzing of his phone is a welcome distraction. Dean pulls it from his pocket and relaxes incrementally when he sees Sam’s picture.

“Hey,” Dean answers.

“So? You sound like you’re alive. How’d it go?” Sam asks.

“Uh, great. I think.”

“You think?”

“No one laughed me out of the room and Cas knew his shit so I assume we still have a job,” Dean replies, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. His skin still feels too hot and tight and the ache in his muscles is returning.

“Cas?”

Dean gulps. Somewhere between the first and second time the guy had given him the best fucking of his life, he’d moved from Castiel to Cas in Dean’s mind. The alpha hadn’t seemed to mind the nickname, but most of the times Dean said it was when he was deep inside Dean, pounding away and…Shit. _Not_ the thing to think about now. Dean, squirms as arousal joins his apprehension.

“Uh, Novak, I mean. Castiel.”

“So you two are besties now?” Sam scoffs and Dean’s cheeks heat.

“We reached an understanding, okay?” Dean snaps back and he swears he can hear Sam roll his eyes two thousand miles away.

“I guess that’ll save you some stress.”

Dean has to seriously fight the urge to give a sarcastic bark of laughter. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, call Charlie or something, cause she’s wound even tighter than usual and worried. She won’t stop texting me to check in with you.” Sam sounds rightly suspicious. Dean feels a stab of guilt followed by shame. He’s going to have to come clean about this to someone – cause god knows he’s going to want to talk about this, but Sam and Charlie are both gonna be unbearable if they find out how massively Dean screwed this up. “Dean,” Sam says slowly after Dean is silent for too long. “Does Charlie have a reason to be worried? You seemed pretty rattled this morning. Are you sure-”

"I’m fine. Everything is fine. There was a small situation, but we handled it and it’s fine,” Dean says, clipped and completely unconvincing.

“Dean…”

“I’ll explain when I’m home. Just tell Charlie to chill.” Dean’s ears perk at the sound of the office door opening. “Bye, Sammy.”

Dean shoves his phone away and turns to the door. He’s a bit embarrassed by how fast he springs up, the way his heart flutters at the prospect of Cas returning. But the lingering scent of him in the office isn’t enough – it serves only to remind Dean of the real thing he’s missing and wants back so badly. Dean licks his lips then staggers back as a very distinctly _not_ Cas scent fills the room ahead of the alpha that enters.

Amara Edlund stands in the door, looking at Dean like she wants to eat him alive.

“Um, Cas is talking with-”

“With Mr. Adler. I know, I arranged it,” Amara says with a confident smile, entering the office and gently closing the door behind her.  “That kowtowing windbag should keep Novak busy for a while. Just long enough for us to get to know each other.”

Dean backs away as Amara advances on him. He can smell the desire in her gasoline and asphalt scent. “I think my work is enough for you to know me,” he says weakly. His heart is racing and his breath is coming fast. He knows by now he’s sweated through the blockers and the alpha can smell exactly what he is _and_ the state he’s in.

“I don’t think any of the others noticed, by the way,” Amara goes on, as if reading his thoughts. “But I could. I’ve always had especially keen senses when it came to omegas in…need.”

Dean feels his legs hit against Cas’s desk and he can’t retreat from her any farther. Amara takes another step to within inches of Dean then leans close. The scent of alpha desire and aggression makes Dean shudder, and not with desire. There’s a small part of him, the part of his brain and body that’s boiling with heat, that responds to the presence of an alpha; it wants to submit and allow her to do whatever she wants with him. But there’s another part of him that is screaming at the wrongness of all of this. She smells so wrong it makes him nauseous and cold. He knows if she lays a hand on him it will be a fight, but he has no confidence he'll win.

“I don’t need anything from you,” Dean says unsteadily.

“Maybe not now, but I think you’ll change your mind later,” Amara replies not even a bit deterred. “They put everyone up at the Hyatt, right?” Dean goes pale and opens his mouth to lie but Amara steps even closer, pressing her body within an inch of Dean and inhaling deeply. “Mmm. So ripe under all those chemicals you’re trying to hide behind. So…” Amara’s head snaps back and she looks like she’s been slapped. “Huh. Someone beat me to it.”

“Like I said, my needs are taken care of,” Dean says slowly.

Amara looks at him with a strange sort of smug confidence in her face and Dean’s stomach drops again. “No matter. I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Listen-” Dean doesn’t get to finish the warning. The office door bursts open and a growl follows. Everything changes as Cas strides in and for a second Dean is sure the other alpha is going to bodily yank Amara off him.

“What is going on in here?” Cas asks, voice like thunder, his scent burning with anger and hostility.

Amara’s scent spikes with answering aggression but she draws back from Dean, her face impassive and maybe even a bit pleased. “Nothing. Just chatting.”

“We’re done,” Dean spits, moving himself as far away from Amara as possible while at the same time Cas steps between them.

“Good. Your brother is looking for you, Ms. Edlund,” Cas rumbles, placing a very conspicuous hand on Dean and glaring at the other alpha like he wants set her on fire with his mind. It’s the most typical display of alpha possessiveness and aggression Dean’s ever seen and fuck it should not be hot but it is.

“I’ll see you soon, Dean,” Amara says with a final smile and exits.

Dean isn’t proud of the way he nearly collapses into Cas, nestling his nose against Cas’s neck and clinging to the alpha like a life raft in a storm. To Cas’s credit his whole demeanor shifts instantly at the contact, arms wrapping around Dean and his scent filling with worry and protectiveness.

Dean hates this. Hates his body and his heat and every part of this that’s taking away his reason and self-control. He hates that he had no idea what he might have done if the bitch had decided to have her way, hates that Cas striding in her like some fucking action hero makes him weak in the knees. He hates that the only thing comforting right now is holding this guy who probably thinks he’s pathetic, because, well, he is. Except Cas doesn’t act like that.

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s hair and it’s more intimate than anything they’ve done before. This isn’t the act of a friend or colleague or even a fuck buddy. This is closeness that belongs in a fucking relationship. This is something for…

“I’m fine, it’s cool,” Dean lies, pulling away and trying to get ahold of himself. “She was all talk.”

“If she threatened you…” Cas’s eyes are full of cold fury at just the suggestion and it makes Dean chuckle despite himself.

“Settle down, alpha. I don’t think ripping out a board member’s throat over a charity fuck is gonna do wonders for your career.”

Cas shrinks visibly, like Dean just kicked a puppy or something. Crap. “Sorry. I…that was…instinctual,” he mutters.

“Yeah, uh, hormones or whatever messing with…everyone,” Dean replies, digging himself deeper. Cas draws away from him and it physically hurts, but Dean grits through. “Any word from the bigwigs?”

“Oh, yes, they were very impressed. Congratulations on being the lead architect on our flagship West Coast project.” There’s some genuine pride and happiness in Castiel’s typically somber tone. Dean can’t help grinning when he meets the alpha’s eye, relief flooding through him.

“Holy shit,” Dean sighs. “Well, at least Sam isn’t gonna kill me.”

Cas gives a nod. “Not today at least.”

Dean gives a tired laugh at the joke, warmth filling him and just like that the respite it over. He feels a new spike of heat deep in his gut and a brief vision flashes through Dean’s head of Cas swooping in and kicking his rival alpha’s ass before of locking the office door so he can fuck Dean so hard the inspirational posters fall off the wall. 

“I’d say we should celebrate but, uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Dean says nervously and Cas’s eyes dart up. “I mean, like…drinks or…food. But not now.” Definitely not now. The only thing he wants now – more and more with each second – is to get Cas back under his hands and mouth and between his legs.

“Maybe…after you…”

Dean can’t concentrate on whatever Cas is fumbling to say. Blood is pounding in his ears and he can feel himself getting a wet and hard against his will. Shit. He has to go now…and pray that Amara isn’t waiting in the lobby for him. Fuck.

“Well, if that’s done I should…” Jesus, Dean can’t even get the words out. He has to go. He has to get away and suffer through the rest of this mess alone and that’s that. He knows Cas can smell the heat and the want coming off of Dean and arousal is starting to tinge Cas’s scent too. “I have to go before the whole office smells me.”

“I can take you back to the hotel,” Cas offers and the hope in his voice and eyes is a punch to the gut.

“No, you’ve wasted enough of your day on me,” Dean forces himself to say and it’s like pulling teeth. “I can get a cab or…something. Lock myself in the hotel and sweat out the rest of this…” he gestures angrily at his body. Cas looks worried and annoyed at the same time, and maybe also a bit sad or hurt. No, Dean has to be imagining that.

“You can’t go back alone in your condition,” Cas declares. Dean doesn’t want to admit he’s right, but he hates the thought of some weird cab driver smelling him or the looks in the lobby. “If another alpha were to…”

“One already did, remember?” Dean tries to joke but even the memory of the unfamiliar alpha trying to stake a claim on him makes him sick. And of course that brings them back to her threat. “Amara asked where I was staying but she wouldn’t actually try to –”

“Yes, she would.” Cas is back to furious and Dean has to remind himself that the possessive alpha thing is neither hot nor genuine given the circumstances. It’s just chemical and that’s why he needs distance now. Why he needs to stop himself from drifting closer to Cas, from scenting him and getting lost in how he smells like safety and sex and everything good in the entire world.

“I have to leave right now or I’m going to do something really stupid,” Dean breathes, desperately fighting every urge in his body. “Something else, I mean.”

“I…have an idea,” Cas grits out and pulls away from Dean. He picks up the phone on his desk and jabs at one of the speed dials with enough force to move the phone a few inches. “Alfie. Stop whatever you’re doing an get in here now.”

“You’re sending me home with your intern?”

“He’s an assistant,” Cas grumbles as he hangs up, not waiting for Alfie to answer. “And I’m sending you wherever you feel comfortable having him take you. He can probably help you better than I can if you…don’t need me.” Cas looks about as sick as Dean feels.

Thankfully a polite knock sounds on the door before Alfie enters. “Mr. Novak, what can I – _oh_.” Alfie’s eyes are wide as he catches a whiff of the omega in heat standing in his boss’s office and trying not to lose it. “I – I didn’t – I’m sorry-”

“Alfie, take my keys and get Mr. Winchester safely and discretely wherever he wants to go. Provide him with anything he might need and I’ll reimburse you, but don’t use the company card,” Cas says like the words are being torn out of him. It’s not just the sense he’s fighting back lust though, there’s distress in his scent that Dean feels matched in his own body. Leaving Cas doesn’t just mean walking away from someone he really wants to fuck him again, it feels _wrong_. Which is why he has to do it. “If you need anything from me, please call. I’m going to walk home and…” Jesus, Dean does not need to think about what Cas is going to do at home alone in his shower or bed, thinking of Dean, and Cas can see that. “Please. Go now.”

“Of course, sir,” Alfie says.

Dean doesn’t know why but the order to leave feels like a slap in the face. It still doesn’t make it any easier to turn away. He doesn’t even manage to give Cas more than a halfhearted wave before following Alfie out the door and through the blessedly empty hallway on shaking legs.

Dean thanks whatever sadistic god is in charge of his day for the small mercy of making it to the elevator without encountering anyone, but the doors closing is just another barrier between him and Cas and it makes him shudder.

“Are you okay, sir?” Alfie asks and Dean shakes his head.

“Not used to this heat shit,” Dean says because there’s no reason not to lie. His joints ache, his head is throbbing in pain and his body can’t seem to decide if it’s on fire for freezing cold. But worse than that he feels like he just tore a kidney out.

He makes it to the underground parking and into Cas’s shiny black Lincoln. The smell of Cas in the leather is comfort and torture at the same time. At least sprawled in the back seat as Alfie drives them away Dean feels like he can breathe, as long as he doesn’t think about the fact he’s driving away from his alpha.

Shit. No. Cas isn’t his. He’s just…Dean doesn’t know what Cas is right now, but he doesn’t belong to Dean and Dean certainly doesn’t belong to him, not matter what his idiot body wants. The heat churns and roils in Dean’s gut but it’s not the normal horniness, or even the feverish desperation he knows. This is something panicked and empty and sickening.

“Uh, Mr. Winchester, we’re at your hotel but if you want we can go somewhere else,” Alfie says from the front seat much sooner than Dean expected.

“No. I want-” Dean can’t say what he wants cause he can’t have that. He doesn’t need him. But he can’t even think of leaving the car and the lingering smell of the alpha that’s his only comfort right now. The room has probably been scrubbed clean of Cas’s scent. Dean will only have the tie Cas fastened around his neck to remind him and mock him if he goes up there alone to jack off without any satisfaction and wait for Amara to find him. “I want you to go up to my room and get my shit, I’m moving to a different hotel,” Dean finally gets out. Alfie parks and leaves Dean sweating in the back of the Lincoln while he complies.

Dean’s hands shake as he pulls out his phone. He considers calling Sam but there’s nothing about this situation that his little brother needs to know about. He needs expert help.

“Dean? What the hell is going on?” Charlie answers after half a ring. “What did you _do_?”

“Something stupid,” Dean groans and his voice sounds a wrecked as he feels.

“Shit, Dean, are you okay?”

“No.”

“Sam said you made it through the presentation though,” Charlie pushes back and Dean takes a steading breath, clutching Cas’s tie.

“I did, I…I was fine. I fucked someone and it made the heat ease back enough to–”

“Dean, you absolute _idiot_ ,” Charlie groans. “Please tell me that you at least had the sense not to fuck an alpha.” Dean breaths heavily into the phone, unable to summon up the will to lie. “Dean!”

“I didn’t _mean_ to okay!” Dean yelps. “He was just…there. And he smelled so fucking good, Charlie, you have no idea and…”

“Wait, wait – you scent bonded?”  

Dean scrunches up his face in annoyance. “Charlie, scent bonds are bullshit,” he protests, even as he presses his face closer to the soft leather of the seat, chasing the not-quite-right smell of the alpha. Oh god. Oh no. “Oh fuck, They’re supposed to be bullshit…I thought…”

“Of course they’re real, dingbat, they’re just rare nowadays when everyone is on blockers and suppressants. Add in the air pollution and smoking and-”

“Charlie! Not the point!”

“Right. So you smelled some alpha and then just had to fuck him cause you’re a moron,” Charlie says and Dean beats his head softly against the headrest in frustration. “I’m almost afraid to ask this because I want to think you had a shred of common sense, but then again you’re you, so who knows. Did he knot you?”

“Why does that make a difference?” Dean evades cause this level of detail was not the point of this call.

“Dean, for crying out loud that’s how you end up _mated_ ,” Charlie cries and Dean has to fights the urge to throw up.

“No, that’s not how that’s supposed to work,” Dean says, voice weak and unsteady. “There’s the biting thing and the blood and…”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a grown fucking man,” Charlie groans. “Alphas and omegas evolved to pair up. Scent bonds, mating bonds, blood bonds…it’s all the same chemistry and same situation, the same feedback loop and dependency, the only thing difference is how strong the bond is.”

“Yeah, I remember reading…something,” Dean tries. Truth be told even today he’d mostly skimmed his research and before then he’d just stayed ignorant. “But I never was gonna get mixed up with mating so I didn’t-”

“Of course you didn’t think about it,” Charlie sighs. “Let’s just…figure this out. Maybe you’re fine. Your alpha smelled so good you couldn’t control yourself and you let him knot you. Did you use protection? Who am I kidding, that would be too smart. Of course you didn’t.”

“I didn’t let him bite me though!”

“Did he mark you?”

Dean swallows, his hand straying across his chest where Cas’s mark lingers beneath his shirt. “Yeah. And I might have, uh, gotten a bit…toothy too,” Dean admits, remembering biting down on Cas’s shoulder and how it practically made him come from just that. Charlie gives and audible groan.

“How many times?” Charlie asks, voice resigned.

“Did we fuck? Uh…two?”

Dean doesn’t want to tell Charlie about the other stuff. The kissing and the grooming and the holding and the possessiveness because that was just the _heat_ and Cas just being…weird and Dean being an idiot who’ll drink up any sliver of affection he can get and…

“And, I’m assuming he’s not around now so…how do you feel?”

“I feel like someone ripped my kidney out and left my in a bathtub full of ice,” Dean snaps and the final piece fits into place as the words leave him mouth. “ _Shit_.”

“Mazel tov.”

“Fuck fuck fuck…” Dean chants, the urge, or rather, the _need_ to get back to Cas pounding inside him even stronger now that he knows his body doesn’t just want another fuck, it wants his _mate_. There’s nothing to even question about it, Dean knows it’s true. His body knew it from the first whiff of Cas’s scent in that car. “Fuuuuuuck.”

“I hope you got the guy’s number to apologize cause the next few days are going to be miserable for you both,” Charlie says. “More for you, of course. Dean, you should probably get to a hospital or something. Losing a mate in heat, even new one, that can seriously fuck with you. You can’t go through the withdrawals alone.”

“Thanks, Charlie, I wasn’t already freaked out,” Dean grumbles.

“Hey, you’re the one that heat-fucked some random alpha, mister, I’m just trying to get you to for once make a good decision for yourself.”

“It wasn’t some random alpha,” Dean sighs, trying to relax and breathe through his discomfort and nausea.

“What? Dean, who did you-”

“Novak.”

Charlie is silent on the other end of the line, though Dean can still hear one quiet thump. Maybe Charlie fainted.

“You’re mated…to the guy you hate…How…”

“It just happened, okay?” Dean groans. “And I don’t hate him.”

“God, I hope not,” Charlie says and there’s genuine pity in her voice. “I bet he’ll be even more pleasant after losing a mate then having to see him on screen every day.”

“Yeah…” Dean jumps as Alfie taps on the window of the Lincoln. “I gotta go.”

“Dean, get to a doctor okay?” Charlie says. “And get home. We’ll deal.”

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll let you know. Don’t tell Sam, okay?”

“Dean, wait-”

Dean ends the call as Alfie gets back in the front seat, placing Dean’s bag on the passenger side. “So, uh, where to now?”

“You know how to get to Novak’s?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good, cause I need to be there five minutes ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can hear you screaming. I know. That's a crazy spot to end this but...more porn is on the way.
> 
> also, re-readers may notice Eve is here now instead of Naomi. i need Naomi elsewhere in this verse so, that's why


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna wait til friday, but fuck we need a distraction today.

The drive to Cas’s place is torture. Dean’s almost asks Alfie to pull over so he can puke. Twice. He’d heard about how hard it was for new mates to separate, and even about long term mates getting sick when one dies or leaves, but he’d never considered what it would actually feel like. Probably because he never intended to mate. Ever. Well, now he knows. It’s worse than heat. So much worse. It reminds him of those shit dreams you get when you have the flu and fall asleep with a fever. The fire and need and bone-deep ache of heat is still there, underneath, but he’s also starving and sick and lost and panicked all at once. He tries to breathe and keep calm, tell himself he’s heading back towards Cas, but he’s never been particularly good at relaxing and his body doesn’t care. All it knows is that he left his mate, or his mate abandoned him when he needed him. When poor Alfie finally parks, Dean sighs with relief.

Getting out of the car and stepping away from Cas's scent is not fun. At least Alfie seems to know where they’re going and is nice enough to carry Dean’s bags and give the doorman an apologetic nod. Dean’s shaking and sweaty. When he catches sight of his reflection in the elevator door he looks pale and generally awful. Jesus, Cas is gonna take one look at him and slam the door, no matter how shitty, he feels he’s gonna know this was a mistake. Well, an even bigger mistake than he thought. Cas is gonna kick Dean to the curb cause he doesn’t want a mate and no one would want Dean. Shit. Not that Dean has any idea of what he’s going to say to Cas but all that matters in getting back close to him and he _has_ to stay there. The possibility of Cas kicking Dean back to the curb has him in a full blown panic attack.

“So, uh, when did you two start dating?” Alfie asks nervously from the other side of the world’s slowest elevator.

Dean sends the kid the most tired and irritated look he can manage. “This morning. And we’re not-”

The elevator dings and the doors finally open. Dean doesn’t need to wait for Alfie to show him where to go, he can smell Cas in the hall and his scent is sick and distressed too. Dean’s heart starts beating even harder and he runs to the door where the scent leads, his idiot body sensing his mate nearby and keying up in need and excitement. Dean barely gets one knock in before the apartment door swings open. He only has a second to take in that Cas looks just as bad as Dean before the alpha yanks him inside.

It’s like diving into a mountain lake on the hottest day of the year. The relief of being in Cas’s arms is instant and shocking and he kisses Dean so fiercely it leaves him gasping. Dean holds Cas as tight against him as he can, drinking in the taste and smell of his mate. It’s so messed up and ridiculous and Dean doesn’t care one fucking bit right now.

“I’ll just…leave this,” Alfie says from a mile away and Dean hears the sound of the door closing. In an instant Dean has Cas against a wall, alternating between kissing him and scenting desperately at his neck. Cas is just as frenzied, devouring Dean’s mouth and grinding his hips against Dean so that the omega can feel the heat of his alpha’s hard cock through their clothes. Why the fuck are they still wearing clothes? Dean sets to Cas’s already half unbuttoned shirt like a man on a mission as Cas starts unbuckling Dean’s belt.

“We need to talk,” Dean manages to say, struggling out of his suit jacket as Cas frees himself entirely from his shirt.

“We do,” Cas agrees, as Dean starts on his top buttons and Cas works on the bottom ones. Dean’s free of his shirt in no time and has an ravenous alpha sucking a mark onto his collar bone as soon as the air hits his overheated skin. “After.”

“After,” Dean echoes, then pulls Cas back into another kiss. He whimpers into Cas’s mouth as the alpha pushes a hand into his underwear and palms Dean’s achingly hard cock.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas growls, stroking him roughly and making Dean shudder with want.

“Bedroom, now,” Dean demands, scrabbling at Cas’s belt and straining zipper. Cas gives a low rumble of agreement, pushing Dean back and further into the apartment. They nearly trip three times, struggling out of shoes and pants and running into the bedroom door. Dean still has one sock on when they finally tumble onto Cas’s mattress.

They rut together, Dean on top of the alpha, cocks caught in between them, and it’s incredible. As awful as Dean felt separated from Cas, he feels that good pressed against him, touching as much warm, tanned skin as possible. He’s never taken so much pleasure at just _contact_ , at the closeness of someone. It reminds him of how long it’s been since he was _touched_ before today. He wants every centimeter of Cas’s skin, wants to kiss him till he can’t breathe, wants the silk of his hair and the blue of his eyes and heat of his cock. Cas’s hands travel down Dean’s back, massaging his ass before two fingers easily breach his slick-wet hole.

“Want you…” Cas mutters, sounding more wrecked and desperate than Dean’s ever heard him. Dean is the one that breaks away, panting as he straddles the alpha. Cas clearly gets what the plan is, guiding the crown of his cock to Dean’s entrance and canting his hips as Dean sinks down onto him. Dean gives a low moan as Cas fills him and the alpha echoes it. His cock is hot and perfect inside of Dean and Dean wastes no time before starting to move. Cas matches his rhythm, thrusting up into Dean and it’s fast and hot and his thighs are gonna hate him in the morning, but it’s perfect. He looks down at Cas, at the face that had been so pale and stricken when Dean opened the door now ruddy and shining with exertion. His chest is flushed and his eyes are dark and heavy lidded as he looks up at Dean. Gorgeous.

Dean gasps as Cas takes Dean’s cock in hand where it bobs in-between them, angling his hips at the same time so that his swelling knot pushes at Dean’s prostate. Dean lets out a cry of pleasure, speeding up as Cas fucks up into him. It had seemed to strange, earlier, how easily they fit together, how Dean’s body opened to Cas so willingly, but it makes sense now. On some level this is the guy he was made for; the one person that something in his chemistry or genes or whatever knew from the first scent belonged with him. Physically at least, a very small and fading voice in the back of Dean’s head reminds him. Dean dives in to kiss Cas to shut the voice up. He rides Cas as hard and as fast as he can, his body bowed around where the alpha is stripping his cock just as vigorously. Dean comes first, with a guttural moan, spurting over Cas’s stomach, marking his mate again. Cas gives one more desperate thrust before his knot catches and then he’s following Dean over the same precipice, arching up as he pours his come into his omega.

Dean’s kind of proud that he doesn’t collapse onto Cas as the last aftershocks fade, just keeps kissing him, soft and slow. He’s not going to think either, still caught up in the pleasant, fuzzy bliss of orgasm and the high that comes from having his mate bound to him. Dean draws away, enjoying the dazed expression on Cas’s face as their breathing slows. Dean runs a thumb through the come striped on Cas’s abdomen, spreading it onto his skin as a quiet chant on ‘mine’ continues in his head. He catches a smear on his finger and lifts it to Cas’s mouth and the alpha licks greedily. Dean gives a shift of his hips and clenches and Cas comes again, his head falling back with Dean’s fingers dragging his plush lips down. It’s so fucking hot Dean has no choice but to kiss him.

They kiss and scent at each other, eventually shifting so they’re lying on their sides, Dean wrapped around his alpha. They’re forehead to forehead, breathing softly when Dean finally remembers how to speak. “So, do we talk now?”

“It probably would be prudent,” Cas replies, his voice low and quiet. “It seems that we’re-”

“Mated,” Dean finishes for him and Cas nods. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Cas's face is nothing but gentle concern and that's honestly not what Dean was expecting.

“Well, I kind of got us into this mess, what with fucking up my meds and dragging you to bed,” Dean mutters. “Don’t see anyone else to blame.”

“There’s no blame, Dean,” Cas replies and Dean raises an eyebrow. “I was a willing participant. And what’s done is done.”

“Yeah, and now we’re screwed,” Dean scoffs.

“We’ll deal with the consequences together,” Cas says firmly, but Dean can hear a hint of doubt or unease in his voice and he’s avoiding Dean’s eyes. “If…if you’re amenable.”

“Yeah, I’m amenable,” Dean replies without hesitation. Cas looks up at him and his eyes are so blue and clear it’s shocking. Dean’s not even sure what he just agreed to, but the moment feels important. Too important to start talking about how to fix this, because that means considering things that seem unthinkable right now. Suddenly Dean is bone tired, the stress and madness of the last twenty four hours hitting him like a truck. “Can we rest for a while?”

“Of course,” Cas says easily and Dean’s eyes fall shut before he finishes the words.

 

Dean wakes up more alone than expected. He’s in Cas’s bed, nested in soft sheets and the smell of his mate, but no actual Cas next to him. Dean still aches when he sits up and but his head is clear. That’s good, at least. The light outside the windows has faded, so he can’t make out the room well, except for a pair of sweat pants set at the end of the bed. Dean grabs them, and heads to the bathroom, yawning as he takes care of things and cleans up. His ass is pleasantly sore and there’s still a low simmer of desire in his core, but it’s manageable for now. There’s no fever and he doesn’t want to claw his skin off so he’s calling it a win. Maybe there are advantages to having a mate, at least for heat. Dean steps out of the bathroom just as a clatter sounds outside the closed bedroom door. He rushes out to find Cas frowning at a pair of mismatched bowls filled with…

“Mac and cheese?” Dean asks, laughing softly. It’s not some fancy kind either. It’s standard, neon orange Kraft and it smells amazing.

“I don’t keep much food on hand,” Cas mutters, handing a bowl to Dean without ceremony. It’s impressive that he can look rumpled wearing nothing but pajama pants that make his ass look amazing. Probably the sex hair. “But you need to eat and I didn’t want to deal with delivery. I didn’t have any milk though so I had to use butter.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. And hey, anything is better than marshmallow fluff,” Dean says as he takes a huge bite. It’s as perfect as mac and cheese can be.

“Marshmallow fluff?” Cas squints at Dean before taking his own bite.

“After my mom passed, Dad sort of went off the rails. I had to take care of Sam a lot and that meant cooking whatever I could find. There were a lot of failed experiments with Mac and Cheese. Sam still brings that one up,” Dean explains and it’s amazing how easy it is. Cas nods, not appalled or over-sympathetic, just interested.

“My parents didn’t cook much, they were too busy. But we weren’t allowed too many indulgences,” Cas says after a few bites. “My older brother would bake, or try to, when they were away. We had to eat everything before they came home so they wouldn’t find out, which wasn’t easy when his experiments went wrong.”

“Did they ever catch him?” Dean ask, smiling at the thought of a younger but just as serious version of Cas stuffed with burnt cookies or something.

“When he caught the stove on fire trying to make caramel it was very hard to hide the evidence, though we did try.”

Dean laughs in earnest. “How?”

“Duct tape and paint. It was unsuccessful,” Cas replies, deadpan as ever until he looks up to see Dean grinning. Cas’s smile is small and awkward but it’s enough.

They finish the food in surprisingly comfortable silence, scarfing it down like starving teenagers. Cas presses a bottle of water into Dean’s hands and Dean is too grateful for it to complain about Cas coddling him. Dean takes a long swig and maybe preens a bit when he catches Cas staring at him, which only makes Cas blush. “Wow, my accidental mate is shy about checking me out, interesting,” Dean teases and Cas scowls.

“I’m glad you find the situation humorous.”

“What’s the saying, gotta laugh so you don’t cry?” Dean says with a shrug.

“I’m not familiar with that idiom.”

Dean sighs and grabs Cas’s wrist to drag him to the worn, very comfortable looking couch that takes up a large portion of Cas’s living room. Dean hasn’t had much time to look around the apartment before now. Nothing matches at all, and the random assortment of shelves are stuffed with books and all sorts of things that look like they either came from garage sales or art museums. He’ll have time to look later. For now he settles into the blue corduroy of the couch across from Cas and sighs.

“So. What are we gonna do about this?” Best to rip off the bandaid fast and get right to it.

“I’m not very well-versed in this area,” Cas answers. “I mean I’ve heard stories and know mated pairs of course but…I never really thought about it as an option for my future. All of this is new to me.”

“Same.” Dean fiddles with the label on the half empty water bottle. “Here we are though.” Cas nods and doesn’t reply. Dean’s not sure of where to go from here either. “See, this is why I never wanted have a mate. I suck at the communication thing.”

“I think you’re doing adequately,” Cas says in the exact same tone he uses when reviewing Dean’s designs. For some reason that’s comforting, enough for Dean to relax and let out a breathy laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Look, Cas,” Dean sighs. “The short term I can figure out. I am happy to take a long weekend in Chicago and ride out this stupid heat on your dick.” Dean catches the mildly shocked look on Cas’s face. “Um, if…that’s okay.”

“It’s charming that you think you have to ask that,” Cas replies, indulging Dean’s clear absurdity. “It almost makes up for previous sentence.”

“What do we do long term though? I have to go home and…” Dean swallows. Hid body reacts to just the idea of leaving his mate with revulsion; a visceral, sick panic that settles in his gut and makes him squirm.

“And separation at this point would be highly unpleasant,” Cas finishes for him, looking equally green as he fiddles with his nails and avoids looking at Dean.

“Understatement.” Dean lets his head fall back on the couch. “I don’t know what’s gonna be worse – feeling like shit for who knows how long or having to work together and be…apart.”

“My offer to recuse myself from the project still stands.” Dean can tell from the tense set of his shoulder and clipped words how hard it is for Cas to say that.

“I told you I don’t want that,” Dean replies quickly. “I don’t think I could take it,” he adds softly. The chemicals in his brain from the heat and the mating have to be messing him up because the idea of not seeing Cas doesn’t just make him physically uneasy, it makes him sad.

“There is…an alternative,” Cas says, looking apprehensive and unsettled.

“I’m all ears.”

Cas finally looks back up and his blue eyes locking with Dean’s sends a small shockwave through him. “I could go with you. To Oregon.”

“What?” Dean’s heart is already racing, his body reacting in excitement before his brain can even process the offer.

“With the project fully approved, DXM will want an executive on the ground there to oversee. Adler already offered it to me but I wanted to ask you first.”

“Fuck, are you kidding me? Yes! You maybe should have led with that, Cas.”

Cas’s eyes narrow in confusion. “I didn’t know if would be awkward or inappropriate, considering we only met in person twelve hours ago.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re gonna actually shack up or something. I mean, maybe…but it gives us time to figure stuff out and not make ourselves sick trying to get out of this too soon.”

Cas’s face darkens and Dean’s not quite sure what part of what he just said was wrong. The alpha gives a resolved nod however and moves on. “I’d like to drive, if that’s alright. Once your heat is passed, of course.”

“That is the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Dean smiles and it’s frankly adorable how Cas lights up at the praise. “No better way to get to know someone than a road trip.”

“I’ll take your word on that.”

Dean knits his brows at the words. “You said you don’t fly, that means you’ve done road trips.”

“Not with someone else,” Cas answers simply. Dean stares at the alpha, piecing things together. He lives alone in an apartment full of weirdness that doesn’t seem set up for guests (the guy doesn’t even have a kitchen table, just a breakfast bar with mismatched stool that look like he stole them from an old diner). He sends emails at three in the morning and is worse of a workaholic than Dean. Doesn’t keep food around and either avoids eye contact or stares directly into your soul.

“When you say all of this is new for you, you mean…all of it.”

“I’m not very good with…people,” Cas says grumpily.

“You seem to be doing fine now.” Dean tries to sound encouraging but it comes out patronizing.

“You thought I hated you for the last two months,” Cas reminds him with a gentle glare and Dean grimaces.

“So there’s room for improvement, we’ll work on it.”

Cas still looks confused but doesn’t argue. “You should get some more rest while you can,” he says instead, nodding towards the bedroom. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Dean replies, petulant and probably lying now that he considers it. “Okay, I’m achy and tired and still really fucking horny, but it’s better than it was.”

“Get back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” Cas orders. Dean’s doesn’t bother fighting it because bed sounds really good right now. Soon enough he cocooned in Cas’s sheets and looking at the strange collection of signs and old posters and masks on the bedroom walls. Cas enters with a fresh bottle of water and presses to pills into Dean’s hands. “Ibuprofen, for the aches and any fever.”

“Thanks.” Dean downs the pills and drains the bottle as Cas joins him in the bed. It should be weird, a guy Dean hated up until recently just crawling under the blankets with, him but it’s easy. Comforting. Maybe a certain intimacy comes automatically with mates or when you’ve banged three times in one day. Cas doesn’t resist when Dean wraps his arms around him, nuzzling at his neck for a hit of the perfect scent of _mate_.

“Do you need me to knot you again?” Cas asks, like he wants to know if Dean needs more water.

“Mmmm, not sure,” Dean mutters against Cas’s warm skin before licking at his pulse point. He’s half hard though and he can feel the slick trickling between his ass cheeks.

“Later then,” Cas says. Dean wants to protest but Cas readjusts them and starts pulling off Dean’s sweats. “I quite enjoy this as well.” Dean groans and relaxes onto the bed as Cas gulps down his cock in one easy movement. He hums around Dean, bobbing his head as Dean grows fully hard in his mouth. 

Cas goes slow, completely focused on building Dean’s pleasure at a crawling pace. He worships Dean’s cock and balls with his tongue, nips and kisses at his thighs and soft stomach, and only after what feels like forever do his fingers start to circle Dean’s entrance. Dean’s a writhing, begging mess by the time Cas slides a single finger into him. He manages one hysterical thought to worry about Cas’s neighbors. They’re probably shocked at the sounds coming from the usually quiet apartment. Dean’s too far gone to care though. His mate is touching him, tasting him, claiming him and everything is as it should be. Ten minutes later he screams himself hoarse and comes in Cas’s mouth with three fingers inside him. He floats on the pleasure, barely aware of Cas’s movements until he has Dean pressed against him as he drifts into sleep.

 

Dean wakes up in the dark, gasping from dreams of other alphas chasing him down. Some had Amara’s face, and others echoed older, painful memories. He’s sweating and desperately hard, slick leaking down his legs as he panics and flails in the unfamiliar room and bed. Cas stirs behind him and Dean remembers. In a heartbeat his mate is stroking Dean’s side and peppering his shoulders with soothing kisses. Dean shakes, grabbing at Cas’s hand, the heat digging it’s claws into him. He can feel his alpha’s cock hard and hot against his back and he needs it.

“You’re alright,” Cas whispers as Dean whimpers with need. “I’ve got you, Dean. I’m here.”

Cas rolls Dean onto his stomach and pushes his leg apart then wastes no time driving into Dean. He tugs Dean’s ass flush with his hips before he begins to rock into him, quick and hard. Dean’s cock is trapped between his stomach and the bed, but the pressure and friction is so good. He’s full and the weight of Cas above him makes him feel safe and hidden and solid. It’s exactly what Dean needs and he moans his satisfaction into the pillows because he can’t manage words. Cas can though, a low litany of praise and reassurance as he fucks Dean into the mattress. Dean can’t make out much, but it makes him feel like some of the words he does catch are true. _Beautiful_. _Magnificent._ _Good_. That’s all impossible, but Cas inside him feels so good he doesn’t care.

He comes the second Cas’s knot breaches him, spilling hot into the sheets and seeing stars. Cas keeps talking, chanting into Dean’s ear as his hips stutters and he comes, a low chorus of “mine, mine, mine” as Dean drifts back into sleep.

 

When Dean wakes up again it’s morning and he’s unsettlingly alone, with an empty cold spot in the bed where his alpha should be. Dean sits up and his body protests, sore and wrung out from yesterday. “Cas?”

No answer and no noise from outside the bedroom. Dean glances around and sees his phone plugged in on the bedside table with a post it on it that reads: “Went for breakfast.” Well, can’t argue with that.

Dean gets up, moving gingerly and not bothering with clothes. His toiletries are in the bathroom along with his pills. He stares at them while he brushes his teeth and keeps thinking about them while he pees and rinses off quickly in the shower. They’re still there staring at him when he gets out, mocking the low simmer of Dean’s heat under his skin. He has no idea why he’s obsessing over this, really. He doesn’t want to go through this again in three months. Hell, in three months Cas will probably be gone, right? Then he’ll be stuck jerking off and riding a fake not for three days with no satisfaction. Sure, heat’s better with a partner, he knows that now, and the sex is sort of amazing. But he hates needing another person like a drug even if the high is awesome…

Dean’s phone rings and saves him from making the decision just yet.

“Good, I caught you in time,” Sam says without ceremony when Dean picks up.

“In time?”

“For your flight?”

“My…oh. Yeah. Not taking that,” Dean says, wandering out of the bedroom and taking in what looks like a sign for honey from the 1940s on the wall on the way to the kitchen.

“What? Dean, you can’t just…not leave Chicago. You made it there, the flight home will be easier,” Sam argues.

“I’m driving,” Dean says, opening a cupboard and finding nothing but an embarrassing amount of ramen and protein bars.

“What?”

Dean grins. Getting Sam to freak out never gets old. “Yeah, uh, Cas is gonna be stationed in Portland while the project gets going, and he hates flying too, so we’re gonna carpool.”

“ _What_?”

“Yeah, he’s gotta finish up some shit here then we’ll head out…” Dean tries to pinpoint when this heat actually started. Maybe the night he got in or a bit before? That means he’s probably in half way though. He remembers waking up feverish last night and in hindsight that was definitely the peak. But he had had Cas taking care of him and made it through. His dick likes that memory very much. “Uh, maybe Sunday?”

“Dean, are you kidding me? You’re gonna drive across the country with Novak? Because…”

The sound of a key in the door should not be so arousing. Nor should the combination of the smell of his alpha and fucking _bacon_ , but whatever. Dean’s through freaking out for now. There is nothing he can do today to fix anything so he’s gonna fucking enjoy whatever he can, Even if it’s imaginary.

“Gotta go,” Dean says and hangs up in time to help Cas open the door. His hands are full with a bag of amazing smelling food and two cups of coffee and his eyes are wide and his mouth is slack. It takes Dean a second to remember that he’s naked and half hard in the middle of Cas’s front room.

“You’re up,” Cas says, eyes tracking down Dean’s body. Dean nods, his mouth watering a bit. Cas looks good in his slacks and button up…a shirt that looks extremely familiar to Dean, given that it’s the one he gave Cas yesterday. “How…how are you?”

“Really conflicted between asking you to fuck me again and eating,” Dean answers and Cas gives a genuine laugh.

“It’s better warm,” Cas suggests. “And you will need your energy.”

They manage to get through half the french toast and all the bacon and coffee before they can’t control themselves anymore and they ends up knotted on the kitchen floor. At least they can reach the rest of the food from there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a bit short, but it's how the pacing worked out. But it's mostly porn so...enjoy that.

Dean figured that heat would be less horrible with a partner, and so far nothing has proved him wrong. It's definitely much nicer to have someone around. Not just to fuck, but to keep him hydrated and remind him to rest, And feed him. That's great. Dean has to hide in the bedroom while Cas has Chinese delivered – enough noodles and rice and potstickers for four meals – because he has no desire to even be seen by a delivery person, but lunch is still delicious. Cas tastes like ginger and soy sauce when he kisses Dean and fucks him on the big, cushy couch. After, they watch TV while they wait for Cas’s knot to go down, then kept watching, only taking breaks for Dean "needs." So not a bad time at all. The downside is that actually having sex during heat turns out to be _exhausting_. Even with increasingly longer breaks in between sessions, Dean feels wrung out and sore. Cas makes him take ibuprofen and rest, but it doesn’t entirely abate the weariness and aches. All in all, Dean has to admit that Cas is doing pretty good at playing the whole protective, caring mate role. Probably just hormones or whatever, but it’s still kind of nice. Add that to the fact he’s damn good in bed and Dean’s actually starting to enjoy him. Which is…good? Since they’re stuck together for a while, it should be good. But they both know this is temporary and not at all something they ever wanted. At least when they’re actually fucking it mostly takes Dean’s mind off things - mind blowing orgasms and napping on an alpha’s chest will do that. But now, as they sit eating cold Chinese straight from the take out containers on the couch and the credits roll on _Return of the Jedi_ , the prospect of another feverish night and more frenzied sex is less than appealing.

“You seem apprehensive,” Cas says, taking another bite of broccoli and beef.

“Just worn out, I guess,” Dean confesses. “It’s been a long few days.”

“I would say I can imagine, but that would be inaccurate.”

Dean smiles around another bite. He’s starting to get Cas’s way of stating things: plain, to the point, and absolutely no bullshit. It’s not really personal and it’s nice to know Cas will never sugar coat anything for him. It’s still tough to reconcile the asshole that was the bane of Dean’s existence for the last few months with the slightly softer, fussy mate that’s been taking care of him all day. Or the confident, incredibly hot alpha that bent Dean over the side of the coach a few hours ago and fucked him until the corduroy left marks on his skin. “Ruts have got to be just as exhausting,” Dean offers, spearing a pot sticker with his chopsticks.

“I don’t think it’s the same. They generally make me horny and aggressive, but not feverish or…”

“Sick and really fucking needy?” Dean says, sounding a bit more bitter than he intended to.

“You don’t enjoy being an omega, do you?”

“No one enjoys it, Cas.” Cas raises an eyebrow as he takes another bite, looking doubtful. “Come on. Turning into a horny, sick mess every three months? Having to worry about alphas just…taking what they want and no one else caring about it? Everyone treating you like you’re gonna break all the time? There ain’t many perks.”

“Well, you do save on lubricant,” Cas deadpans and Dean nearly chokes on his pot sticker. Cas gives Dean a look but doesn’t crack.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s a serious issue for most alphas,” Dean says and Cas gives a noncommittal little shrug. “Wait, really? Are we talking about you fucking beta males or…another alpha?” Cas keeps eating, pointedly not responding but the blush tinging his cheeks and the subtle change in his scent makes Dean seriously curious. “Or are you talking about…”

“It’s not unheard of,” Cas mutters into his food and Dean’s eyes go wide.

“You like getting fucked?” Dean realizes after the fact there were probably better ways to say that; ways that didn’t make Cas tense up in embarrassment. “Hey, no, if you…that’s…sort of cool.”

“I had one previous partner, an alpha, that…enjoyed it,” Cas says carefully.

Dean’s stomach gives a little lurch and his skin prickles, though not entirely from interest. An alpha/alpha couple is rare but that's not what bugs. “Okay. Interesting. But, uh, I don’t like thinking of you with other people,” Dean says before he can stop himself.

“That’s probably a factor of the mating,” Cas replies nonchalantly. “I feel the same….possessiveness.”

“Yeah, I was there when you almost punched your boss yesterday.”

“She was out of line, mate or not,” Cas says, his voice a low growl and his eyes darkening.

“Hey, it was sorta hot,” Dean grins and Cas relaxes. They fall into a contented silence and keep eating. A lot of things about the day have been like that – surprisingly easy and comfortable. Dean hasn’t actually had a day without work or pressure for a while, and it’s sort of nice to sit around in soft borrowed sweats on a giant, cushy couch and relax. He’s not sure if it’s the apartment that’s got him chilled out or the literal fuck ton of orgasms or just being around his (temporary) mate. Or maybe it’s just something about Cas. That seems odd considering that this is a guy who, despite having had his dick in Dean more than a few times by now, Dean doesn’t actually know many details about. But that he can fix.

“So, what’s with all the –” Dean gestures to Cas’s walls with chopsticks still in his hands.

“Junk?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Dean lies.

“It’s alright, that’s mostly what it is,” Cas says without hostility. “My family was very well off growing up, and my parents thought they could make up for not being around with toys and presents, so I had more than most children. But it always felt so…empty. Sterile. So I started collecting things that weren’t.”

“You collected…trash?” Dean asks and tries very hard to sound kind.

“Mostly just discarded things I found – I had a cigar box full of beach glass, another one with interesting rocks. Old magazines and signs and toys and gadgets that didn’t work anymore. Anything with a story.”

“Like your car.” Cas gives Dean an impressed look. “Hey, I pay attention.” Dean takes another look around, imagining that smaller but just as serious version of Cas picking up rocks and bottle caps like treasures and hiding them away or this version of Cas hanging a hand-painted sign for shaving cream on his wall with pride.

“I know it’s…odd,” Cas says, sounding uneasy.

“Nah, it’s cool.”

“Most people think it’s odd.”

“Then most people are dicks.” Dean says it with a force that seems to surprise Castiel. He gives Dean a look that’s hard to read – something curious and warm, like he’s trying to figure something out about Dean and enjoying it.

“How much longer do you think you have to go in your heat?” Cas asks, taking the now empty takeout container from Dean.

Dean sighs at the thought, flopping back on the couch. “Probably should peter out by the end of the day tomorrow. Why? You gettin’ worn out, alpha?”  Dean asks with a wicked grin.

Cas gives him a scowl in reply. “I’m trying to plan the drive west, and I assume your family will want to know when you’re returning as well.”

“Oh, uh, I told Sam we’d be heading out Sunday.” Cas gives a noncommittal ‘hm’ and Dean lets his eyes fall closed. He can feel the first signs of another wave of his heat approaching: a nervousness in his stomach, a flush to his skin. Now that he’s actually paying attention and not distracted by unrelated anxieties and panic, it’s much easier to notice. His nerves tingle, longing for touch and warmth. It hasn’t ratcheted up to the full blown, mind-melting _want_ yet, just a quiet buzz.

“Did you tell Sam why you’re delayed?”

Dean cracks an eye open to look at where Cas is now looming above him. “Nope. I am gonna postpone that freak out and lecture for as long as possible.”

“He’s protective of you.”

“Over protective. Charlie too. They’re never gonna let me live this one down. So I’m ignoring the problem until I can’t anymore,” Dean says with a smile.

“That seems unproductive.”

“Yeah, well, no one ever said I was good at this shit.”

Cas takes Dean’s wrist and pulls him up from the couch with surprising ease and Dean doesn’t resist. Cas noses at Dean’s ear and neck, as he snakes his arms around Dean’s waist. “You have an overly harsh opinion of yourself.”

“It’s called accurate,” Dean mutters, nuzzling into Cas’s hair and stroking Cas’s back. This sort of intimacy should feel strange, even in heat, but it’s so natural he barely notices. Must be another mate thing. “If you didn’t notice, I’m kind of a disaster.”

“Stop it.” The note of command in Cas’s voice makes Dean shiver. He bites his lips, trying to keep some measure of control as his arousal grows. It's a futile cause. He's skin to skin with his mate, his solid warmth pressing against the marks he's left on Dean's chest, old and new, and its intoxicating.

Cas takes a deep breath, mouthing at Dean’s neck. “I’ve never smelled anything like you.”

“You have to have been around omegas in heat before, come on,” Dean argues rather weakly, his hands sliding down to Cas’s ass. God, it's a nice ass.

“Not the heat, you.”

Dean pulls Cas’s hips flush with his own, pressing his growing erection against Cas and feeling him starting to get hard as well. “You ain’t half bad yourself.”

“Is that so?” Cas licks at Dean’s ear and gives a gentle grind of his hips against Dean. He smells like rain fresh air around a crackling fire in the woods and it’s perfect.

“You’re the best fucking thing I’ve ever smelled in my life,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s temple. “I nearly got hard in your car, when Alfie picked me up, just from the smell of you.” Cas bites at Dean’s earlobe and bucks his hips at that, pulling Dean even closer. “Got myself off on it later, just the little bit of you I could smell on my clothes.”

“Fuck,” Cas whispers against Dean’s cheek and Dean loves it.

“Should have seen me,” Dean goes on, and he honestly can’t say why. He’s never been one for dirty talk much before, but the way it makes Cas react is sort of awesome. “Ass in the air, wishing for a nice alpha cock to fill me up. Couldn’t have dreamed better than yours.”

“You like my cock?” Cas pants, dragging blunt nails down Dean’s back. 

“Isn’t that kind of obvious?” Dean jokes and it is apparently the wrong answer, because Cas pushes him away, fingers digging into Dean’s hips and his face stony. “I mean…yes?”

“I don’t know if I’m convinced,” Cas intones, low and dangerous with an eyebrow raised. It sends new shivers of excitement down Dean’s spine and straight to his dick. “Go get on the bed.” Dean has to hold himself back from running to the bedroom. He wants to keep up the cocky façade for a little while more, see what he can get out of Cas. Most of the day Cas has been pretty gentle with him, fucking him slow and steady and drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible to sate Dean’s need. That’s not what Dean wants now. Dean gives a wicked smile and turns slowly away from Cas. The Alpha grabs Dean roughly and pulls him back closer and down so he can growl into Dean’s ear. “Naked. On your knees, like you were the other night.”

Dean takes a shaking breath as Cas lets him go and moves to comply. So what if he walks sort of fast to the bedroom, he’s just being efficient. He drops his sweats and climbs onto the bed. It still smells like sex; like him and Cas, their scents merged into a perfect combination of rain and fire. It makes his head spin and a drop of precome seeps from where his swollen cock hangs between his legs onto the sheets. He’s wet too, dripping slick down his thighs as he braces his arms on the mattress and waits.

And waits.

His heart starts beating faster as the seconds tick by and he hears Cas puttering around outside. His breath is coming shallow and fast and his skin is on fire as the smell of his mate doesn’t strengthen. What the fuck is he doing? It’s not like the fucker has to do dishes. Dean clenches his fists in the sheets as he feels another trickle of slick and strains to listen for Cas’s approach. Maybe he’s not coming. Maybe he realized he accidentally mated a fuck up omega, maybe he doesn’t want an idiot who’ll present like whore when ordered. Dean lets out a small whine, suddenly achingly aware of how empty he is and at the same time how pathetic, how stupid, how –

“Beautiful.”

Dean doesn’t realize how much tension he’s holding in his body until it rushes out of him at the first touch of Cas’s hand on the small of his back. He sighs, arching wantonly into the touch and gets a swat on the ass for his trouble.

“Stay still,” Cas orders and Dean can’t find the will to argue. He settles himself as Cas continues to caress him, his touch feather light on Dean back, his ass, his calves and ankles. Dean feels the bed shift as Cas situates himself behind him, hands grazing back up Dean’s thighs and then kneading Dean’s ass. Dean forces himself to be still and not shudder as Cas spreads him and he braces for the touch of his fingers or even his cock. He’s not expecting Cas’s tongue.

“Fuck,” Dean keens, knitting his hands so tight in the sheets his knuckles go white. Cas’s laps at Dean’s hole, humming in enjoyment as he teases the tight muscle, wet with slick. Dean pants like he’s run a mile, his whole body reacting as Cas devours him with gusto. He wants more though. His heat is screaming at him for more and the press of Cas’s tongue, no matter how hot and skilled, isn’t enough. “Cas, please…”

Cas only relents by stroking a finger up from Dean’s balls to tease at Dean’s prostate from the outside while Cas’s tongue pushes into him. Dean yelps, sensation zinging through his whole body and fighting to stay put. Cas does it again and Dean bucks his hips, thrusting into cold empty air then pushing back towards Cas. Immediately Cas pulls away.

“No, shit…fuck…” Dean whimpers, aching at the loss of contact.

“You want more than my tongue?” Cas asks. It has to be a trick question, but Dean’s too strung out to care. Dean nods vigorously and Cas makes an interested sound before circling Dean’s hole with one finger then pressing inside. It’s good, but it’s not nearly enough and Cas knows it. He goes soft and slow, just barely grazing Dean’s prostate as he opens him up. Even when he slides a second finger in, twisting and pumping it’s just a tease. Dean is so ready, so wet with slick and high with heat that Cas is able to add a third finger like it’s nothing. “Is that what you want, Dean?”

“I need your cock,” Dean begs.

“Do you now?” The playful hint in Cas’s whiskey and chocolate voice makes Dean want to melt. Cas leans down, barely touching his chest to Dean’s back but every point of contact is searing. “Is that all?” he asks in Dean’s ear.

“Yes, fuck, please…” Dean feels Cas smile and dares to look up into the alpha’s lust-dark eyes. The calculating look there is as hot as it is terrifying.

“Good. That’s all you get then,” Cas intones and Dean tries to make sense of that. Of course, all attempts at logical thought go out the window when he feels the first press of Cas’s cock against his hole. He pushes into Dean slowly, so slowly, making sure that Dean feels every millimeter of him until he’s fully seated. Dean sighs, nearly ready to cry with the relief of finally being filled. He makes needy sounds as Cas drapes himself over his back, kissing at his shoulder and neck and ghosting his hands over Dean’s sides. Cas’s hands come enticingly close to Dean’s neglected dick then stop, settling on his hip. “Come on my cock, Dean,” Cas growls into his ear. “Just my cock.”

“What the…fuck!” Dean cries as Cas draws out and thrusts back into him without warning. Cas moves again, this time nailing Dean’s prostate, and the noise Dean makes is ungodly. Cas’s hands are a vice on Dean’s hips as he moves, the slap of skin and the wet sound of his cock driving into Dean obscene between the sound of Dean’s moans and Cas’s labored breath.

“Is this what you need, Dean?” Cas asks, his voice strained and rough as he fucks into Dean.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean barely manages to say. He’s never felt so strung out, so open and fucking helpless in the best way. His head is swimming with heat but it’s more than that. He’s floating, pleasure building and engulfing him as Cas hits the sweet spot inside him over and over.

“So, answer me again, Dean,” Cas says, punctuating each breathless word with a thrust. “Do you like my cock?”

“Yes!” Dean yells, collapsing onto is elbows. The change of angle is perfect. Cas fucks into him faster and harder. “Yes, fuck, Cas, yes…” Cas’s knot it starting to swell, stretching Dean even further and it’s fantastic and Cas is hitting every place inside if Dean that drives him wild and… “Fuck!” Dean screams as he comes, spilling on onto the sheet below him as Cas pounds into him until his knot catches and Cas cries out as well. The feel of his mate’s seed pouring into him sets another orgasm off that has Dean nearly collapsing save for Cas holding him up.

“All yours,” Cas whispers in Dean’s ear. Or maybe Dean imagines it. It’s a soft, shaking sound that doesn’t match with the strength and command of the alpha that just fucked him until he came untouched. It still makes Dean feel warm and content as the delirious pleasure ebbs away.

They ease down onto the mattress, pushing soiled sheets away and catching their breath. Cas kisses at Dean’s neck until Dean twists to meet Cas’s mouth with his own. They kiss lazily for a while until Cas draws back to nuzzle into Dean’s hair.

“Never done that before,” Dean slurs, settling into the comforting circle of Cas’s arms.

“Really?” Dean can feel the smugness radiating off Cas and he would roll his eyes if he could keep them open.

“Try not to sound too pleased with yourself.”

“Of course not, Dean,” Cas says, as sarcastic as all get out.

“You like to say my name,” Dean notes, stifling a yawn.

“It’s a good name,” Cas replies. He separates for a moment to adjust pillows and pull a blanket over them. Dean doesn’t like the cold that seeps between them and snuggles back closer to Cas when he’s done.

“’s just a name,” Dean mutters, already sinking into sleep. 

Cas kisses his neck and pulls Dean closer, his words soft against Dean’s skin. “Yes, but it’s yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come say hi to me on Tumblr!](http://ibelieveinthelittletreetopper.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also: If you are enjoying my writing, please do an author subscription and be sure to check out my very first DCBB when it posts November 22!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I am so sorry for the longer lag in posting. I had to finish the final touches on by DeanCas Big Bang ([which is RIGHT HERE and I hope you read!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8606395/chapters/19736908)) and also finish my SPN Holiday Mixtape fic which will be out next weekend! But we're finally here with the update and the next wait will hopefully not be as long. 

The third night of Dean’s heat is easier. Dean’s dreams are more settled, and when he wakes at two am grinding against Cas, the alpha indulges Dean, letting him rut against his hip until he comes for the first time before rolling him over to knot him, sleepy and slow and ease the craving. For the first time, he wakes up next to Cas in the morning instead of confused and alone. Despite the gross sheets and morning breath, it’s…nice. Cocooned in the scent of _mate_ , Dean feels more relaxed than he has in…He actually can’t say. He knows it’s all the chemicals in his brain messing with him, he knows that, but that doesn’t make all of this feel less good. Dean drapes himself over the warm, still sleeping alpha and just lets himself be content, just for a moment before he has to go back to reality. He listens to the steady beat of Cas’s heart for minutes, until Cas’s phone starting jingling on the nightstand. Cas stirs and gives an irritated, sleepy groan.

“Who the fuck is calling you on Saturday morning?” Dean asks as Cas’s eyes crack open.

“Hopefully someone I can fire,” Cas grumbles and fumbles at the phone to check the caller ID. Whatever he sees makes him grimace and he lets the call go to voicemail before turning his attention back to Dean. “Good morning, Dean.”

“Mornin’, Cas,” Dean smiles, sitting up just enough so that Cas can move.

“You’re very chipper,” Cas says suspiciously.

“And I haven’t even had my coffee yet.” Dean narrows his eyes. “Please tell me you own coffee.”

“Of course. I’m not an animal. I’ll make some.” Dean grins and it turns into a laugh as Cas’s nose scrunches when he tries to move out of the sheets. “I should start a load of laundry first.”

“Maybe shower too,” Dean teases then notices the various fluids dried on his skin as well. “Eugh, on second thought I’ll join you.”

They move easily through the bedroom and bathroom, brushing teeth and stripping sheets and not bothering to find clothes. Dean maybe intentionally brushes against Cas a few times just to be a little shit but Cas doesn’t seem to mind at all. It’s as easy as anything to start kissing him and enjoy the cool mint taste as they make out against the bathroom wall.

“What about the coffee?” Cas murmurs, his cock stirring against Dean’s thigh as he scents his omega’s arousal.

“Shower first,” Dean commands.

Cas fucks him impressively against the wall of his tiny shower, thankfully declining to knot Dean. It must be a sign that his heat is ebbing that Dean doesn’t mind. The orgasm is good enough and he gets to use his hands on Cas for the first time. Dean massages Cas’s knot and savors the way Cas bites his lips and lets his head fall back against the linoleum as he comes. The sight of Cas’s fantastic cock pouring come onto Dean’s stomach and thighs before the water washes it away is amazing. They kiss under the hot spray as they come down then exit into the foggy bathroom. Dean appreciates the novelty of sex with Cas that doesn’t end up with them stuck together after, but it is strange not to share the afterglow locked close together. Certainly more convenient though.

Dean stretches as they return to the bedroom. “I’ll go start the coffee,” Dean says as he grabs the closest pair of sweats off the floor to pull on. They're a smidge tight in the hips which means they're Cas's but they're incredibly soft and comfortable and Dean is not giving them up. Cas scowls at his phone and doesn’t answer. “You okay?”

“Oh, yes, fine,” Cas says, extremely unconvincing, but Dean lets him be and heads to the kitchen.

Cas’s kitchen is sad. There’s no other word for it. The only thing vaguely related to tools for making food is a top of the line coffee maker, a coffee grinder and one (1) pot and that's _it_. There's a cupboard full of mac and cheese, ramen, and protein bars because Cas is apparently a successful alpha executive who never left college, plus coffee beans. The fridge contains water, takeout containers, sriracha and butter. Cas owns three mismatched bowls, two plates and about twenty coffee mugs. It must be another collection, because they’re all different shapes and sizes and ages. There’s a commemorative mug from the wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana and another huge one shaped like a pumpkin. There’s even one with a mermaid on it and Dean can tell by the paint that it’s one of those kind where he sea shells will disappear when there’s hot liquid in the cup. Dean shakes his head and picks the mermaid mug for himself and a tall one with a sunburst and a radio station logo on it for Cas.

Cas emerges from the bedroom with sweats riding low on his hip and wearing Dean's PSU tee, holding his phone and Dean’s as well. “I think you received a text message, I didn’t look.”

“Thanks,” Dean says, taking the phone and noting Cas’s frown. “You okay?”

“I should return this call. I don’t want to,” Cas sighs. He casts a longing look to the gurgling coffeemaker.

"Do I wanna know who called?” 

Cas hesitates, looking at Dean not with apprehension but with suspicion, like he’s not sure why Dean would care. Dean’s not sure why either, but hey, they guy is his mate - for now at least. “It was Anna.”

“From your office?” Dean had been expecting an annoying aunt or maybe even an ex or something. Not a co-worker.

“She’s concerned that I didn’t come in to work yesterday. I haven’t ever taken a day sick before, but I followed all the correct protocols to call in. Still she’s…persistent.” Cas sounds perplexed and annoyed. 

“So? Aren’t you guys friends? Maybe she’s worried about you,” Dean offers and Cas raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t have…friends.”

“At the office?”

Cas clears his throat and moves to futz with the coffee machine instead of looking at Dean. “That would be inappropriate.”

“Dude, having friends at the office isn’t inappropriate. Hell, if I didn’t work with Sam and most of my friends, I’d never see them.” Dean looks down at his own phone at that thought and sees the latest three unanswered texts from Charlie. “Though Charlie is probably going to kill me when we get back. But everyone I work with is my friend.”

“You work in a small business environment,” Cas argues. “And you’re very personable. You know I’m not.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’ll call her back and find out what she wants,” Cas says firmly, turning away from the coffee maker and picking up his phone.

Dean’s not sure if he should listen, but there’s really no place to duck away beside the bedroom and the coffee is almost done brewing. He elects instead to read through Charlie’s increasingly panicked texts and try not to listen. He lasts about five texts and half-way into Cas’s first sentence.

“…this is irregular, is there business that you need to discuss?”

Dean recognizes that tone. The cold, no-nonsense corporate tool tone that he hated for so long. If anything it’s worse than what Dean is used to. He sort of wishes he could hear Anna’s reply but he can’t make much out.

“No, I don’t know where he is. As far as I know he got on his return flight yesterday as scheduled.”

Now that gets Dean’s attention. Anna is definitely suspicious.

“Please tell Miss Edlund that I don’t have any information for her.”

A shiver runs up Dean’s spine and Cas spins towards him, instantly sensing Dean’s unease.

“Nor will I _ever_ have any such information for her, if that’s clear,” Cas adds, holding Dean’s gaze. “Is there some other reason you’ve called on a Saturday?” Dean watches as a shadow of confusion flickers over Cas’s face before he returns to the default annoyed expression as Anna answers. “Everything is fine, Anna. Thank you for your concern. No, I won’t see you Monday, I’m heading to Oregon tomorrow. No, by car. I’ll obviously be available digitally, but I do have unused vacation. No I’m not-” Cas grimaces as Anna says something and rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Anna, please have a pleasant weekend.” Cas ends the call and tosses the phone to the couch.

“What the hell?” Dean asks as Cas sighs. “Amara doesn’t actually have her looking for me, does she?”

“Amara Edlund is a force of nature and accustomed to getting what she wants,” Cas mutters and there’s a hint of aggression in his scent. “It’s perplexing Anna would be so accommodating in helping her find you. And be so intrusive with me.”

Dean thinks back to how hostile Anna had seemed towards him and Cas before, which he had attributed to the fact she had smelled that they’d been fucking; hell, she probably smelled they were mated before they did. Dean had thought she didn’t approved of the inappropriate relationship, but now he has more information. “Dude, she has a crush on you.”

“What?” Cas squints at Dean and the little crease between his brows is pretty cute.

“Anna, she likes you; probably wants me out of the way or some shit.” The idea makes Dean bristle. Even though Cas isn’t really his…boyfriend or husband or anything more than someone his body thinks he belongs with, it still bugs him. “Which doesn’t make it okay. But I get it, I guess.”

“That’s still absurd. A relationship with a coworker would be highly irregular and frowned upon at DXM.”

“And fucking your architect isn’t?” Dean says before he can stop.

“You’re a contractor, not a fellow employee; you’re not covered by the sexual harassment and relationship policies,” Cas replies, not missing a beat. The coffee maker finally beeps and Dean fills the mugs and hands one to Cas. The mermaid's seashell have indeed vanished on his and Dean grins.

“Good to know.” Dean takes a sip of coffee and hums in pleasure. “This makes up for the protein bar you’re gonna make me eat for breakfast.”

“I can go get something else."

Dean waves off his concern. “It’s fine, Cas. I’m a bit worried for your diet though. Please don’t ever tell Sam I said this but, have you ever heard of fruits and vegetables? I hear they’re all the rage.”

“I get fruit with my coffee at least three days a week and eat salad for lunch, at work. I just don’t see the need to keep perishables-” Cas stops himself. “You’re being humorous.”

“Well, I was trying.”

“Try harder next time,” Cas says and Dean smiles. The alpha retrieves some of the aforementioned protein bars from the cupboard and they happily enjoy them with their coffee.

Dean clears his throat. “So, uh, you don’t have friends at work. Do you have…” Dean’s not sure why he thinks asking this is a good idea because he already sounds like an asshole.

“You’re asking if I have any friends at all?” Cas finishes for him and Dean grimaces into his coffee at the tone. “A few. Well…Two. Three if you count my brother.”

“Hey, that’s better than none!” Dean gets a look from Cas that makes him think saying nothing might have been the better choice there. “I mean…fuck…”

“I told you, interpersonal relationships are not my strong suit. My…” Cas does the thing where he looks away, like he’s already sure Dean’s not interested in what he’s going to say.

“Hey, not mine either, really,” Dean reassures him. Cas doesn’t look like he believes him but he relaxes.

“My ex was much better with people than me, most of our friends were really his friends. Then I found out he was cheating on me with them.” Cas doesn’t sound hurt by the confession, just weary.

“Like, more than one of them?” Dean asks, appalled on Cas’s behalf.

“All of them.”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as Cas turns to look at him, face resigned and a bit ashamed. And that just makes Dean angrier. “What’s this dick’s name? I need to know whose ass to kick.”

“His name is Luke Nichols and…That would be an interesting fight,” Cas say thoughtfully. “He’d probably hit on you. Then I’d likely kill him and I don’t relish the thought of jail time, so let’s avoid it.”

The joke shouldn’t make Dean feel fluttery inside. It’s probably the coffee or something. “As if you’ve broken a law you in your life."

“I jay walk routinely, I’ll have you know.”

Dean can’t hold in his laughter anymore and it gets worse as Cas maintains his serious demeanor. “Oh you rebel. Be careful, I’m gonna be encouraging you to go over the speed limit on the ride west.”

“You sound like my brother,” Cas says, shaking his head but finally cracking a smile.

“This is the secret baking, setting the oven on fire bro?” Dean asks and Cas nods. “Sounds like a hoot. Older or younger?”

“Older. He lives in Washington now, owns a bakery that specializes in marijuana infused food. He calls it Baked and Confused. You can’t imagine how proud our parents are.”

“Munchies that give you the munchies? That's a sound business model, come on,” Dean laughs and Cas's smile grows so that wrinkles blossom at the corner of his eyes. “So, uh, tell me more about him.”

“You really want to know about my family?” Cas asks back, obviously suspicious. Dean hesitates, granting Cas’s unspoken point. This is going a bit past the few snippets of information they’ve shared so far. But he’s really starting to want to know the guy he’s gotten mixed up with.

“Hey, I can’t go more than thirty minutes without mentioning Sam, I figure it’s fair.”

Cas smiles tentatively and takes a deep breath. “Gabriel is…very different. From me. And everyone else for that matter. He’s six years older and I think he exhausted my parents so thoroughly by the time I was born that they just…didn’t have much energy for me. And their careers had taken off as well…”

Dean learns that where Gabriel was reactive, Cas was compliant, but that the two of them had still managed to get into a pretty good amount of trouble which their parents didn’t react to very much. Unfortunately Gabe had dropped off the map when he reached college, leaving Cas with no one to encourage him to rebel at all, so high school had been boring. That turns into a discussion of how Dean wishes he could have had a boring time in high school instead of getting dragged around the country with his father trying to find work, dumping his disappointing omega son with friends or family when he could and trusting him to take care of Sam. It’s interesting, contrasting the ways Gabe was and wasn’t there for Cas against how Dean pretty much raised Sam from a certain point on. While Cas was doing model UN, Dean was stealing milk and peanut butter. Cas thinks that’s admirable and sad, and when he says it Dean believes him. The worst thing Cas did in High School was stay out too late playing D&D, which is fucking adorable. Cas was always a healer, and apparently he was a too cautious for his friends so they didn’t play too often or ended up playing without him. That seems to be a theme, though Dean doesn’t remark on it: people leaving Cas behind while he obeys the rules and others…don’t. Dean doesn’t mention it but it makes him profoundly sad to think of Cas in his youth: so smart and good but very alone. Dean instead starts talking about how he never was anywhere long enough to even make many friends. It was just him and Sam and a whole lot of books. He didn’t figure it was really stealing if he took them from one library and returned them to another, though a few he really did keep.

“Books are easier than people,” Cas agrees. “Especially when they can take you somewhere…else. Somewhere better. Or at least different.”

They wind up talking about Tolkien and Brooks and Alexander and more for over an hour and end up in a heated argument about _A Song of Ice and Fire_ and whether it was an error to change Dany from and Alpha to and Omega in the TV series. And somehow the turns into a story about how Gabriel finally turned back up while Cas was in college after getting convicted for stealing cable and possibly growing weed in the back of a post office. Cas is fuzzy on the details but the story has Dean laughing until he cries nonetheless. Dean matches that with a few stories of Sam hitting puberty and the trouble he manage to get himself into with his no good girlfriends in high school. It’s funny until it’s not and Dean has to change the topic before he gets to bogged down in the guilt of his first try at college and all the terrible consequences of that.

He doesn’t talk about Dad or the accident. Accidents. Cas doesn’t mention where his parents are now either.

Dean doesn’t know what to think when he looks up from where Cas sits across from him on the couch to the clock and it’s past noon. “Whoa, uh…not to be cliché, but look at the time.”

“Oh, are you…” Cas looks a bit embarrassed as he looks Dean over.

“Starving, yeah.” Dean’s stomach rumbles on cue and Cas just looks more perplexed.

“No, I…I meant your heat.”

“Oh. Uh…” For a blessed a few hours Dean had managed not to think about his idiot body or it’s stupid wants and needs. Now that he takes stock…there’s still a lingering ache in his muscles, but it’s no worse than the day after a hard work out. There’s no fever or headache and he doesn’t feel the constant vibration of need under his skin. The arousal and desire are kind of still there though, but that might just be because he's sitting across from an insanely hot alpha. “I think…I’m good?”

Cas leans in unexpectedly and scents along Dean’s neck, his stubble grazing Dean’s chest. “You smell…normal. I think. Still very good but…cleaner?”

“Well that could be the shower,” Dean mutters but he’s feeling optimistic. “You think I’m safe to go out?”

“Go out?” Cas asks in clear confusion and it takes Dean a second to realize Cas thinks he’s suggesting leaving him.

“Not alone,” Dean reassures him. It might be possible, but he really doesn’t want a repeat of Thursday or to test their limits.

“Oh.” Cas still looks kind of embarrassed or shy or something and Dean doesn’t quite understand why.

“I still haven’t really seen Chicago, maybe you can drive me past some of the sights and we could eat? I hear you guys have pizza.” Dean watches the tension drain out of Cas instantly.

“I know a place I think you’ll like,” Cas says in this gentle, wry way that makes Dean’s heart leap. And again he’s not sure why.

 

Less than an hour later they end up at a hole in the wall place called Morty’s eating the best deep dish Dean’s ever tasted. They missed the lunch rush and it’s an out of the way place any way so they’re pretty much the only people there, which is just fine by Dean. He felt antsy leaving the apartment, stepping into cold air that didn’t smell like sex and mates. But it’s nice to feel like a full person again and to listen to Cas talk about Chicago (he went to college there, moved around for work then came back three years ago) without thinking _too_ much about how much he wants to get him horizontal again (or vertical, or diagonal, Dean’s not picky).

Cas introduces Dean to the owner of the pizza place – possibly the scariest guy Dean’s ever met, kind of skeletal and discerning – and somehow they get talking about the trip tomorrow. The guy’s apparently some sort of encyclopedia of the best crap food in the US and the debate on whether they’ll go through Nebraska or South Dakota is decided by a recommendation for fried pickle chips in Iowa. The guy still freaks Dean out, and Dean’s not quite at ease until they’re back together in Cas’s car. He sort of wants to touch Cas, reach over the gear shift and take his hand but he’s not sure if that’s kosher out and about like this. He thinks he sees Cas’s fingers twitching too but he dismisses it.

After that Cas makes an attempt to show Dean around Chicago via car. He makes a few pathetic tries to point out architecturally interesting buildings before realizing Dean could not care less at the moment and they instead end up at Wrigley Field. Dean’s feeling okay so they chance a walk around outside, just talking. They find out neither of them has ever actually been to a baseball game and it almost gets into a ‘who had the shittier father’ competition until a group of three loud, drunk, alpha frat boys approach.

“We should go,” Dean whispers under his breath, leaning close into Castiel on the wide sidewalk. Cas furrows his brow, before catching their scent. His face hardening.

“Hey, sweetheart,” one of the jackasses calls before they can clear out. “Ain’t you a pretty thing."

Dean rolls his eyes. He’s heard it all so many times before he could recite it. “Fuck off,” he snaps, grabbing Cas’s wrist to stop him from pouncing on the alpha that spoke. Cas very obviously is not as willing to let this behavior slide. He can feel Cas’s pulse racing under his fingers but the idiots obviously don’t catch any of the warning signs.

“Come on, you don’t want this shrimp, baby,” a different male calls. “You need a real knot.”

“That’s my _mate_ you’re talking to,” Cas growls and, yeah the guys might outweigh and loom over him, but damn if the nerdy little guy isn’t as intimidating as fuck. Enough to makes at least two of the three alphas take a step back. “I would suggest you back the fuck off.”

There’s a moment of tension as Cas steps between Dean and the group where Dean wonders if it’s actually going to come to blows. The lead alpha blinks first and steps back.

“I’m good, assholes, thanks,” Dean sneers and yanks Cas away as the group hoots after them. Dean can smell the anger coming off Cas, acrid and sour, as they walk as quickly as possible back to the Lincoln. He wishes he still had the energy for that sort of rage. Dean sighs as they take their seats and lock the door. “Yeesh, It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve been anywhere public without blockers. Almost forgot how fucking awesome it is.”

“That was unacceptable,” Cas grits out and for Dean notices his hands are white knuckle-tight on the steering wheel. “Nothing about that was right.”

“It ain’t right, but it’s normal. Believe me I’ve heard a lot worse.”

“Dean, that’s awful,” Cas says and Dean shrugs.

“Yeah, well, now you know. Day in the life of an omega. Glad I had a nice alpha on my side for once, real helpful.” Dean doesn’t mean it to come out bitter but it does and that just seems to sour Cas even more so he lets the subject drop.

Dean tries to make small talk, which doesn’t really help – shocker - and Cas is tense all the way back to the apartment. He makes some excuse about having to pack and leaves Dean with an impressive pile of take-out menus to peruse if he’s hungry. Dean isn’t hungry, thanks to the pizza, so he flips through the cable for a little while before his worry and curiosity get the best of him and he wanders into the bedroom. Cas has three identical dark suits laid out on the bed and he’s staring at them like they’ve personally offended him.

“Tough choice,” Dean mutters. “Black, black or black.”

“The left one is navy and the…”Cas stops himself and sighs as he realizes Dean is joking.

“And you know, every day is casual Friday in our office so you can wear jeans.” That doesn’t seem to comfort Cas either.

“I don’t…own jeans,” Cas says, almost under his breath and Dean doesn’t know if he should laugh or hug the poor guy. Cas keeps glaring at the clothes on the bed. “I have khakis and what…what are you doing?” Dean went for hugging, slipping his arms around Cas’s waist from behind and hooking his chin over the alpha’s shoulder.

“Um, helping you pack?” Dean ventures. He’s a bit distracted by how nice it feels to press against Cas; how solid and warm the alpha is and how fucking amazing he still smells. It occurs to Dean that he hasn’t really touched Cas much today, compared to the last two. In fact he hasn’t really touched him at all since they got out of the shower. It’s sort of a huge contrast to yesterday where they barely manages to get a foot apart for most of the day. Yesterday even when they weren’t fucking, they’d been close: knees bumping on the couch or spooning as they slept. Then today…nothing. “Okay, maybe I wanted to touch you,” Dean half admits but it doesn’t get Cas to relax.

“I thought the effects of your heat had passed,” Cas says softly and it clicks for Dean.

He feels himself go cold, considering that Cas might not _want_ to touch him now that Dean doesn’t really need it. Neither of them wanted to end up mated, and they were going to stop with the sex after the heat was over so they could go back to their lives eventually…except they never actually said that. And the thought of not touching Cas, of the future he's going to have to face without him one day, riles something unhappy and anxious inside of Dean.

“Well, mostly…” Dean lies, pulling himself even closer to Cas and breathing in his scent. It’s just as perfect as ever and it still hits Dean like a drug. “I’m still feeling…I dunno, clingy. If you don't want to...”

Cas turns, pulling out of Dean’s embrace and giving him that weird, penetrating, trying to see Dean’s thoughts look. He can tell Cas is trying to figure him out: take in his scent, his skin and eyes, and see if Dean is bullshitting. “Dean, you’re still extremely attractive, to me; and in general, obviously, but…I…I just don’t want to over step. Again.”

“Again?” Dean feels like Cas has been having whole conversations with himself that Dean’s missed entirely.

“Earlier, I shouldn’t have been so aggressive about protecting you.”

“Is that why you’re being weird?” Dean asks and Cas scowls at him. “Sorry. Weirder.”

“I had no right to act that way,” Cas says, completely humble and penitent. Dean shakes his head. Maybe he _is_ still feeling the heat because it doesn’t compute.

“Cas, come on. It didn’t bug me, I know you know I don’t need anyone to defend me,” Dean says carefully. “Honestly, you’re sort of hot when you go all righteous.” He reaches out to touch Cas but the alpha gives a heavy sigh.

“No, calling you my…” Cas purses his lips.

“Your _mate_?” Dean almost laughs cause he’d barely thought about that part of it, but Cas looks pained. “Come on, it’s not like it’s not true.”

“It’s true by accident,” Cas shoots back. “Or chemistry or biology…” Cas stops talking when Dean pulls him close, chest to chest, and runs his fingers through the alpha’s perpetually mess hair. “Dean…”

“It’s still true,” Dean whispers and Cas closes his eye. Dean’s not sure why he’s arguing. Maybe because there’s still something itching under his skin to get close to Cas and winning this dumb argument will satisfy that need. Maybe because he’s still in the mindset from his heat that he’s going to just go with the choice his body made for him because being with this weirdo feels so fucking good. He should be miserable that he’s mated but instead he makes his final point by leaning in and kissing Cas. Fuck, how was he not doing this all day? Cas kisses him back, pliant and hungry and hot and Dean keeps his bottom lips between his teeth when he finally pulls away.

“You’re very hard to argue with,” Cas murmurs, breathless.

Dean slips his arms around the alpha’s neck. “We weren’t arguing, we were talking about how you still think I’m super hot.”

“And very frustrating and confusing,” Cas counters, his hands rubbing up and down Dean’s sides.

“What’s confusing? I haven’t had you in me for like, a day, I miss it,” Dean says, pressing his hips against Cas so the alpha can feel how Dean is getting hard just from his proximity. He trails his hands down and slips them under Cas’s shirt. Cas’s skin is so warm and soft it’s heavenly.

“What about tomorrow though?” Cas asks breathlessly. “What about…”

“What do you want right now?” Dean argues back, trailing his mouth over Cas’s jaw and savoring the prickle of stubble against his lips.

“That’s not-” Cas’s voice catches as Dean nibbles at the tense tendon below his ear. “Not important.”

“You don’t indulge yourself very often, do you?” Dean murmurs as he takes Cas’s earlobe between his teeth. Before Cas can answer, Dean licks at the shell of the alpha’s ear. It wrings a small, strangled sound out of him and Dean feels goosebumps rise on Cas’s skin beneath his hands.

“I don’t…have time…” Cas says, his voice wonderfully strained.

“You got time now.” Dean pushes Cas’s shirt (a hideous long sleeved, stripped thing that needs to be burned anyway) up and off. Cas complies easily and kisses Dean, deep and hungry. Dean likes this part of sex with Cas, the scratching away at the exterior of decorum and control he projects. “We’ve got all the time in the world,” Dean goes on, pulling away just long enough to tug off his own shirt. “Tell me what you want.”

Cas’s eyes narrow as he licks his lips and stares at Dean’s bared skin like a starving man who’s just seen his first meal in a week. He pounces on Dean and has him on the bed so fast it almost knocks the wind out of him. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“I wanna hear you say it,” Dean pushes back instantly, a challenging growl in his tone and Cas catches his breath again.

“I want you, Dean, I want…” Cas hesitates, every muscle tense above Dean and it only makes Dean more curious. Maybe Cas will ask him to fuck him. He’s never actually done that with a male. Maybe Cas wants to boss him around again like last night, play the dominant and enjoy Dean’s eager submission. Dean has no idea but he's down for either. There’s a war in Cas’s eyes. He did say it was a stupid question though, so it shouldn’t be this hard.

“Say it, Cas.”

“I want to be inside my mate.” There’s a reverence in the way he says it, like Dean is sacred and his desire is profane.

“We can do that,” Dean whispers, surprising himself with his own tenderness. Cas moves easily when Dean pushes him and flips their positions, laying Cas out on the mess of suits. “First things first though…” Dean undoes Cas’s pants quickly, yanking them off so that he’s entirely exposed to Dean’s gaze. He’s already told Cas that’s he’s hot, now he wants to tell him he’s beautiful.

“Dean…” Cas gasps as Dean dips down to lick at his nipple. He pays slow, careful attention with his mouth, his teeth. Cas has a small mole right above and Dean kisses that too. Then his chest, the firm pectorals warm under his lips, until he reaches the other nipple. He has one leg braced between Cas’s legs so that Cas’s heavy, hard cock grazes Dean’s thigh and stomach as he arches beneath Dean, smearing his skin with precome. “What are you…”

“I’m making my mate feel good,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s soft skin. The guy’s pale, must come from all that time cooped up in an office. Dean wants to pull Cas out into the summer sun and see that skin turn golden brown and kiss wind chapped lips somewhere where the air is clean and sky is clear.

Dean’s hands sweep over Cas and his mouth follows, learning the particular geography of the alpha that Dean had been too preoccupied to enjoy until now. He likes it when Dean uses his teeth, but only on his chest and shoulders, not his arms. He tenses when Dean’s fingers stray behind his knees, ticklish, and it makes Dean smile against his toned, magnificent thighs. Cas’s cock is hot against Dean’s cheek when he nuzzles it, and at the first flick of Dean’s tongue at the crown his mate makes the most perfect, desperate sound.

“You deserve to feel good,” Dean whispers, the head of Cas’s cock catching on his lips. Dean has to go slow, he’s never had his mouth around a cock this size. But never let it be said that Dean wasn’t up for a challenge. He works by increments, licking then wrapping his lips around Cas and bobbing down a bit more each time. He glances up through his eyelashes to lock eyes with Cas and take in his thunderstruck face. This is the point when someone usually tells him how pretty he locks with a cock in his mouth, or it was ten years ago. Cas just stares in awe, mouth agape until Dean tongues the thick vein on the underside, following it’s winding path from base to crown, and Cas’s head falls back with a low moan. Perfect. Dean wants more. He wants to give his mate more. “You can move, Cas,” Dean tells him, kneading his hands into Cas’s tense thighs to relax him. “I can take it.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Let go,” Dean says before returning his mouth to the alpha’s cock. The smell and taste of him and the rising boil of Cas’s pleasure have Dean nearly delirious. Enough that Cas’s first shallow thrust isn’t an intrusion, it’s a consummation. Dean hums his approval around the cock in his mouth as Cas continues to move and Dean meets him. He has to work to breathe, to relax, but opening up to Cas this way is easy too. He adds his hand to make up for what his mouth can’t take but Cas doesn’t seem to mind. Dean’s barely paid any mind to his own dick or his hole, bus he’s as wet now as in he’s ever been and he knows Cas can smell his slick. Cas had babbled about how good Dean tasted and Dean wonder if Cas’s come will be like that for him if he gets him off like this…

“Dean, oh god,” Cas whimpers and Dean knows Cas is getting close. The rhythm of his fucking into Dean’s mouth slows and Dean feel the first swell of Cas’s knot under his palm. “I want…”

Dean knows what he wants, drawing off the breathless alpha and onto his hands and needs. “Then take it,” Dean orders as he presents and fuck, he’s never quite felt this…powerful? Wanted? Confident? Vocabulary doesn’t matter. Nothing matters when Cas mounts him, giving Dean’s hole only the most cursory check with his fingers before driving his cock into the hilt. The stretch and fullness makes Dean scream with pleasure, with completion. Cas fucks him fast and hard, already close to the edge and Dean just takes him, lets his body be used for his mate’s pleasure as he floats and keens.

Cas comes shouting Dean’s name and it’s so fantastic Dean gives a low laugh that Cas can probably feel where they’re knotted. “Now, wasn’t that nice?” Dean sighs, still high on his own pleasure and the weird satisfaction of undoing Cas so entirely. The alpha pulls Dean close to his chest as they sort of collapse onto the bed on their sides. Then Cas’s hand is on Dean’s dick, stroking him fast, twisting his wrist and moving inside Dean so that his knot hits him just right. Holy shit, Dean had no idea he was so close but Cas seems very determined to return the orgasm favor. Dean sees stars when he comes, clenching around his mate. Cas might have come again but Dean’s too strung out to be sure.

Dean doesn’t think about much of anything as they catch their breath, laid out on their sides on the bed, until the slight discomfort of a button digging into his hip reminds him that they just fucked on Cas’s suits.

“Oh, whoops,” Dean chuckles as he looks over to notice the splashes of come on at least two of them. “I guess we are going to have to buy you some jeans.

Cas makes an uninterested noise, his face still nestled into Dean’s neck. He’s marginally helpful as Dean yanks the ruined clothes out from under them and tosses them across the room. He’s useless getting the blankets in order. “Are you considering going to sleep?” he asks at last, arms tightening possessively around Dean.

“That a problem?”

“I need to finish packing whatever we haven’t ruined and-”

“Eh, we’re not gonna be in any rush to leave tomorrow, are we?” Dean hadn’t really thought much about the trip tomorrow except in the most vague terms.

“I guess not, depending on where you want to stop for the night.” Dean has no idea where the distance in Cas’s voice has come from, but there’s something soft and sad in the words.

“Let’s just…take it easy for a while then.” Dean smiles when he says it, snuggling back into Cas’s warmth, but he smells a hints of nervousness rising in the alpha’s scent. “You okay? You can finish up when your knot goes down if you’re really antsy about it-”

“Dean what just happened?”

Dean really wishes he could turn and fully look at Cas, but he’s also getting the impression Cas is only talking right now because he can avoid Dean’s eyes. “Um, some good sex?”

He feels Cas’s mouth open against his neck, feels his nervous intake of breath and a slight tremor in the arms that hold Dean close. “If I finish up, will you still want to sleep here?”

Dean scrunches his face in confusion and now he does make an effort to crane around so he can force Cas to look at him. “Of course. Where else would I sleep? Are you sure you’re okay?”

Cas stares at Dean, confusion washing through his eyes then fading as he clearly resolves something. Dean hopes it’s joining Dean in the ‘not thinking too much about this’ party.  “I’m fine,” Cas declares, resolved. “Should we solidify our route and schedule tomorrow?”

Dean grins and gives Cas a quick peck. “You and your schedules.”

They decide they’ll leave around eight and try to get in a good twelve hours on the road which will take them to the far end of South Dakota. When Cas’s knot goes down and they can separate Dean still hangs around, helping him pack and later making some Ramen they eat while they watch some British murder mystery show Cas likes. They end the day like they started it, moving easily in the bathroom, brushing teeth and touching as they pass. When they settle into bed, it’s as natural as anything to snuggle into his mate’s arms and he doesn’t think about it. Cas hesitates before adjusting his grip on Dean, before scenting his hair and relaxing. Dean doesn’t think about that either. He doesn’t let himself notice the way that Cas breathes him in like a drug he knows he shouldn’t be taking, how everything in their bodies and scents screams contentment at a mate’s closeness. He kisses Cas goodnight too, long and deep and lazy, and he doesn’t think about that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was worth the wait. More to come soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a very brief mention of a death in here that might have been a suicide, so...take heed.

Cas is a granny driver. Dean knew it before he even got in the car. The alpha checked the locks on the apartment three times and had an actually fucking hard copy checklist of things they needed to make sure to have before leaving (which Dean crumpled up and threw in the back seat). Dean didn’t argue about Cas driving first but he did have to grit his teeth at how Cas fucking crawled through Chicago traffic on the way out of town. He insisted on being the one to jump out of the car and grab them coffee and breakfast because he was sure Cas would spend five minutes picking out the perfect banana.

“You know I thought the whole ‘gonna make you go over the speed limit’ thing was a joke but…you do know you don’t have to stay go _exactly_ the speed limit,” Dean says when they finally move out of the urban sprawl and into more open country.

“Are you in a particular rush?” Cas asks back, eyebrow high and voice annoyed.

“Well, no, but…”

“Exceeding the speed limit will not make a statistically significant difference as to when we arrive in Oregon.”

“But…you’re using _cruise control_!” Dean whines.

“Yes, so I can be sure to not exceed the speed limit.”

Dean flops back in the seat with a dramatic sigh. “You’re just forcing me to make up the time when it’s my turn.”

“Dean, do _not_ get a ticket in my car.”

“Hey. They can’t give you a ticket if they can’t catch you.”

“Dean!”

Dean cackles at look of horror on Cas’s face and shakes his head. “Well, Sam and I usually have a driver picks the music rule, but I’m kind of scared to see what you music is. And you don’t even have a cassette player.”

“Because no one has cassette players. Except apparently you." Cas is trying very hard to still sound irritated but Dean can hear the amusement in his voice. “And I usually listen to audio books on long rides.” Dean makes a disgusted noise and Cas rolls his eyes. “You can look through the music in my phone if you like. Or we can hook up yours.”

“I have permission to look at your phone?” Dean asks and Cas nods. “That’s pretty trusting, Cas. Sure there’s nothing incriminating?”

“I store the locations of the bodies of my victims on my blackberry.” Dean huffs a laugh at the rare joke and picks up Cas’s phone. It’s an iDentical iPhone to Dean’s right down to the case, except for the green color. Dean's is blue. “The code is 0820.”

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got.” Dean’s a firm believe that you can tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to but he honestly has no idea what Cas is going to have or like. He starts with the most played list. “Okay we’ve got…Chicago, not too bad. Earth, Wind and Fire. More Chicago. Journey…respectable. Air Supply? Really? And Phil Collins?”

“He’s a great songwriter,” Cas mutters.

“Holy crap, Cas, do you listen to anything from this century? Your music is like the best of eighties elevator rock,” Dean clucks, continuing to scroll. “REO Speedwagon? Oh my god…Paula Abdul?” Cas looks like he wants to sink through the seat and disappear but keeps up a pretty good scowl. “If I find Jefferson Starship on here, I swear...” Cas swallows and keeps his eyes on the road. “Cas no.”

“‘We Built This City on Rock and Roll’ is extremely catchy.”

“Oh my god.”

“Just pick something,” Cas snaps and Dean chuckles to himself as he starts 'Faithfully' by Journey. “You don’t have to keep looking…”

“Oh, yes I do,” Dean says moving out of range as Cas reaches for the phone. “Hands on the wheel, Mr. Obeys Traffic Laws.”

“Traffic laws exist for a reason,” Cas argues and Dean just laughs as he keeps looking through Cas’s music. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Cas, _Bread_?”

Dean tries not to tease Cas too much as the drive goes on. He actually has music taste that runs the gamut. Deeper in the collection Dean finds Gregorian chant, blue grass, a few bits of opera and sitar music, and to his horror, Enya. Cas barely convinces him not to delete that one, and he also gets a win when he notices Dean singing along to ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore.’

Traveling with Cas is easy, actually. They go through Cas’s terrible music in between conversations and Dean finds himself talking fondly about trips with Sam in the past, making sure to talk around the part with Dad or the reasons why they were on the road at all. Cas is jealous that Dean’s seen the world’s biggest ball of twine, which turns out to be very different from the world’s biggest ball of yarn. Oh course Cas, who collects strange lost objects and horrible music love roadside attractions. Both of them have been to the House on the Rock and want to go back. Dean says something dumb about going together some day and Cas just turns up the music, which is…well it’s not weird. There’s no ‘some day’ for them. Dean has to keep reminding himself that. Still, they stop and take pictures of a field full of cement corn cobs and Dean makes sure that they get selfies on both phones, cause he doesn’t have a picture of Cas and if this is…temporary or whatever, he wants one. And at least the pit stop means they can switch places and Dean can finally see what Cas’s car can do.

“Okay, your turn,” Dean says with a sigh, tossing Cas his phone to hook up to the stereo. “Code’s 0502.” Cas hums, very obviously pleased to be trusted but then is quiet for a bit too long for Dean’s comfort. When Dean looks over, the alpha is grinning. “See something you like?”

“You know, you don’t get to mock me for not having anything from this decade when the only thing you have that’s recent is…”

“Oh fuck.”

“Taylor Swift? Really Dean?”

Cas insists of playing 'Shake it Off' seven times in a row because he says he wants to master the words. And then he switches to Dean’s own collection of Journey’s greatest hits.

 

They stop on the West side of Iowa at the place Morty recommended and the pickle chips are indeed amazing. Dean stays behind the wheel a while longer until they have to stop for gas in the middle of nowhere about an hour after lunch. A burly alpha leaning against a truck gives a very pointed sniff in Dean’s direction while Cas is inside paying for the gas. Shit. Dean had forgotten the whole day that he wasn’t wearing blockers (again). He’d been distracted in the morning because the time he’d usually put them on had also been the moment a very naked and gorgeous Cas had stepped out of the shower. They hadn’t had time to fool around because Cas had A Schedule to keep up so Dean hadn’t really been able to do much, but he had been distracting so Dean had forgotten the blockers...and the suppressants. And okay, maybe he also doesn’t like the idea of Cas not being able to smell him. It feels like lying. But not wearing them means he gets looked at like he’s a piece of meat by assholes like the one staring him down now.

Dean’s about to tell the guy to fuck off but Cas chooses that moment to emerge from the station with two cokes in his hands. Cas spots the other alpha just as the wind changes direction and Dean gets a whiff of the other alpha’s interest before the smell of his mate’s aggression overpowers it. The guy looks away from Dean immediately and Cas doesn’t say anything as he takes the driver’s seat. Dean settles in his own spot and he’s not really sure what he’s feeling. There’s a bit of smug satisfaction warming inside of him, and that’s not right 'cause he doesn’t like being claimed or owned or whatever the fuck it is mates do…except he really does. It makes him think of the marks Cas has left on him and his regret that they’re starting to fade. He knows all too well he shouldn't think that. He knows soon he has to really start telling himself not to. But not right now.

“Do you want to listen to some more music?” Cas asks and his tone is clipped.

“Uh, sure.” Dean takes Cas’s phone and just puts it on random for now, keeping the volume low. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Cas says, but Dean can smell his tension. Maybe he’s having the same freak out as yesterday, Dean’s not sure. He’s shitty at talking these things out though.

“Car drives great, for something modern,” Dean says. “And hey, wasn’t going over 70 fun?”

“It was...bracing."

“Doesn’t compare to my baby, of course.” Dean sighs at the thought. It’s been too long since he’s had a god long drive in the Impala. “She’s got 502 Big Block I put in myself. _Five Hundred and Fifty_ horses.”

“I’m not sure what most of that means but I like how you talk about…her.”

“Hold on.” Dean pulls out his own phone and scrolls through the pictures, only pausing a hair extra on the one with Cas from earlier, until he finds a good shot he took of Baby a few months ago. “This is right after I put on a new bumper, after Sam ran her into a fence, the big moron.”

“Dean, I’m driving I-” Cas’s eyebrows go high as he chances a look at the picture as Dean leans close to him. “Oh. She’s beautiful. And huge.”

“Oh yeah. Not as much room inside as you’d think, but I’ve still managed some good times in there.” Dean grins at the memory. Memories. Cas looks suspicious but he also smells interested. Very interested. Now they’re getting somewhere.

“You’re talking about sex.”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m talking about sex.” It’s kind of amazing that after all the sex they’ve had that Cas can get so flustered so easily at the mention of it. The alpha fiddles with his collar, steadfastly avoiding looking at Dean. “Does that bother you?”

“No, of course not,” Cas says too fast. Dean’s mouth quirks as the scent of Cas’s arousal. His eyes drop to Cas’s crotch and he licks his lips without thinking. He can’t be blamed really, he’s been in the car with Cas for like five hours already and the scent of him is still like a drug. And he hasn’t had the chance to touch Cas today and that’s gotta violate some sort of mate rule, right? Cas sucks in a breath and Dean knows the alpha can smell the interest coming off of Dean.

“Does that…interest you?” Dean asks carefully.

Cas purses his lips and squirms. And yeah, Dean can see the outline of his hardening cock in his khakis and it just makes Dean grin.

“You thinkin’ about fucking me in my car, alpha?” Dean asks, far too pleased with himself.

“No.” Cas says forcefully then finally sends Dean a nervous look. “I was imagining having my way with you against it.”

“Having your way with me? Who talks like that?” At that moment the music switches to a lazy guitar riff and Dean groans. It’s ‘[I Wanna Make it With You](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0ahUKEwjLz_7XyYTRAhUY5WMKHW3ADTgQyCkIHTAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DqFeKe15zOAU&usg=AFQjCNEHgKSJE1d1ehaoeMiOG7HCIly5pQ&sig2=1xUmuYKpIIPr4rk8Sf-XQg).’ Of Course. “The same guy that has Bread on his phone apparently.”

“It’s a good song-ah!” Cas nearly swerve off the road when Dean reaches for his zipper.

“Hey, careful there, you got precious cargo,” Dean chastises as he carefully pulls the zipper down, a feat made more difficult thanks to Cas’s position and the fantastic hard on he’s developed. Dean’s half hard too but that’s not the point right now.

“What are you doing?” Cas demands as Dean eases his fly open and slips his hand into his into his underwear. Cas hisses at the first touch of Dean’s fingers on his cock but thankfully stays in his lane.

“Making the road trip memorable.” It takes some doing but Dean gets Cas’s dick out of his boxers and starts stroking.

“Dean, this is…we could be arrested or ticketed…” Cas’s face is a beautiful mix of lust and panic when he looks at Dean and it should not encourage Dean as much as it does.

“Eyes on the road,” Dean smirks and bends down, his lips just shy of the tip of Cas’s cock.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice is desperate and wrecked already – side effect of always sounding like he just swallowed a gravel quarry.

“Do you want me to stop?” Dean means it sincerely. He’s a horny idiot but he doesn’t want to actually push Cas into anything he really doesn’t want to do.

“No.” The word is barely a whisper, almost inaudible over the music and the noise of the road. But Cas shifts in his seat, opening his legs minutely and giving Dean better access.

“Hope you’ve got the cruise control on,” Dean purrs and takes Cas into his mouth. It’s been a long fucking time since Dean's done this. So long he doesn’t want to think about it or that fact that it was long enough ago that he’s markedly less flexible. Whatever. He’s going to enjoy this.

Dean really does love the taste of his alpha, and the feel of Cas in his mouth, hot and thick. He also adores the sounds Cas makes as Dean circles the crown with his tongue. He chances a glance up at Cas as he slides his lips further down and strokes his hand up to meet them. The alpha’s jaw is tense and the tendons in his neck are standing out as he tries to stay still. Dean laughs at that, and at the incredibly corny music playing as he sucks at his mate’s cock with the gear shift stabbing into his liver. He’s still learning what Cas likes. A graze of Dean’s teeth makes him gasp and quick licks he likes well enough, but one long sweep of Dean’s tongue up his entire length earns Dean a low rumble of pleasure and quickened breath that’s pretty awesome.

Dean goes at it and only notices the car swerve once. At some point Cas combs in fingers into Dean’s hair, not pushing him or even guiding really, just touching him. Dean wants to make a crack about keeping hands at ten and two but it’s rude to talk with your mouth full. He can’t take all of Cas in, especially in this position, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind that Dean’s hand is picking up the slack. Cas’s cock it wet with spit and precome and the sound as Dean’s hand slides up and down along with Dean’s mouth is obscene over the chipper music. Dean feels Cas get tense and suck in a breath and he knows he’s close.

“Dean, I-” Cas’s hand tightens in Dean’s hair, and Dean wraps his lips tight around Cas’s cock, taking in as much as he can and telling him without words that it’s okay, he wants this, wants to taste his mate. Dean kneads Cas’s swelling knot and sucks hard and that’s it. Cas makes a strangled sound and bucks up his hips as he comes, pouring into Dean’s mouth. The taste is strong and bitter, but it’s still _Cas_ and Dean swallows down as much as he can before he has to pull off, a bit of come dribbling down his chin.

“I got you don’t worry.” Dean goes for the glove box and just as he thought, Cas is the sort of guy that hoards take out napkins like they're gold. Dean grabs a few and sees to Cas before wiping his own face. Cas looks thunderstruck and breathless and that has Dean biting his lip in satisfaction. “And hey we didn’t get arrested.”

“That was…”

“Awesome?”

“Unexpected.” Dean’s not sure why Cas still looks so spooked but he also smells happy and sated so Dean’s still counting this one a win. Dean maybe takes a bit too much time carefully getting Cas back into his pants. The task and the movement remind Dean that he has his own situation going that probably need to be taken care of.

“Are you gonna make a citizen’s arrest if I finish off?” Dean asks and the wide-eyed look from Cas is perfect. The music has switched from Bread to Chicago now and Dean’s pretty sure he’s gonna end up with some weird eighties music kinks before the trip is over. He undoes his pants, not taking his eyes off Cas as he frees his dick. “Okay don’t judge me if this goes really fast.”

“I wouldn’t dream,” Cas says, glancing sidelong at Dean. Dean notices how Cas’s hands – which had been relaxed on the wheel after his orgasm – are tense and tight again and his mouth is slack.

“I like having you in my mouth,” Dean say, fisting his cock and stroking without much finesse. What’s getting him off is Cas: watching him now, remembering how good it felt to take him apart. “Never thought I’d say that to an alpha, but you…” Cas’s breath catches at the same time as Dean’s and Dean speeds up the movement of his hand. He wishes he could finger himself, or better yet have Cas inside him, but this is good too. He makes a noise and Cas looks at him fully, face full of lust and amazement. Dean comes, collapsing in on himself and catching the mess with a napkin.

“You are…impossible,” Cas murmurs, looking back at the road with an amazed expression.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grins, tossing the soiled napkins in the back seat before settling back, relaxed and satisfied. “But you’re stuck with me.”

Cas’s scent spikes with unease and Dean cocks his head. The alpha swallows slowly and keeps his eyes on the road before them. “For now.”

“Uh yeah.” Dean had no idea two little words could make him sick to his stomach. That’s gotta be the mating though because…well, because he doesn’t want this. Right? Not long term. Except every time he even tries to think about the future it’s a big blank wall of nope.

“Dean…”

“So, uh, you think we should keep on I-80?” Dean says, and it’s as transparent a deflection as can be. There’s a sour tang in the air now that clashes with the smell of sex and Dean doesn’t like it at all so he's gonna talk over it and pretend it doesn't exist. “If we take 87 north we can maybe stop at Carhenge.”

“Carhenge?”

“It’s like Stonehenge but cars. Guess some guy had time on his hands.”

“I guess so. Would you really like to go?” There’s a sparkle back in Cas’s eyes when he looks at Dean.

“Hell yeah.”

 

Carhenge is like eighty miles out of the way but it’s generally in the right direction. They don’t reach it until late in the afternoon but it turns out perfect, because the weird collection of cars buried in the Nebraska dirt like standing stones is actually kind of pretty in the fading autumn light. The air is also clean and fresh and just a bit crisp and Cas smells wonderful and happy next to Dean when the breeze picks up. They end up eating at a diner across the highway, built to absorb the traffic from the roadside attraction. They have decent meatloaf and excellent pie, which it turns of Cas really enjoys. Dean counts that heavily in his favor and takes too much time watching Cas lick the last bits of blackberry filling off the fork. It’s a quaint little place and the waitress in yellow smiles at both of them as she refills the coffee with their pie. The walls are decked out in the kind of kitsch that you’d expect – posters and signs from a bygone era – and it reminds Dean of Cas’s apartment. Enough that when Cas goes to use the restroom Dean asks the waitress a favor.

Dean lets Cas gas up the car at the filling station next to the diner while he makes an excuse about peeing (which he does do cause he drank a lot of coffee) but he also meets the waitress and she says she thinks it’s so sweet Dean doing this for his mate and Dean’s just doesn’t care enough to argue.

“What’s that?” Cas asks as Dean approaches the car, grinning.

“Thought you might wanna add this to your collection. It, uh, made me think of you.” Dean hands Cas the prize. It’s a weathered sign, blue with white letters, made of metal and pocked with rust, advertising “Hot Coffee! .10 ₡!”

Cas doesn’t speak at first, but his face says everything. He takes the sign from Dean almost reverently, eyes wide and amazed and it makes Dean feel like he just gave the guy the key to the city or something. “Thank you, Dean,” Cas say softly. Dean takes the driver’s seat as Cas places the sign carefully in the back seat, like it’s made of glass. The way Cas keeps smiling for thirty miles after dinner fills Dean with a stupid kind of pride that he doesn’t poke at, but it keeps him warm as the night grows dark and heavy outside.

 

 

They push through to the very edge of Nebraska before they decide to stop. The town is barely a speck on the map but there’s a motel advertising color TVs and air conditioner that doesn’t looks too skeezy. The kid in the office barely looks up from his comic at Dean to give him a key while Cas gets the bags out of the car.

“Room 108” Dean says, grabbing one duffle from Cas and heading down the covered walk to their door. An all too familiar scent of old upholstery and mildew confronts Dean when they enter the room. It’s clean though, with brown carpet from the seventies and pictures of farm equipment on the walls. Dean not sure about the scratchy looking comforter but the king bed is tempting just because it’s a bed and Dean is warn out from the road.

“Oh, you…” Cas starts, looking a bit alarmed. Probably not his usual type of digs.

“Sorry, no minibar or chocolates on the pillows,” Dean says, dropping his bag by the window (which looks out on a collection of dumpsters). “You wanna shower or something before hitting the hay? I’ll keep an eye out for Norman Bates sneaking up on you.”

“There’s only one bed,” Cas says, still standing stiffly by the door and looking mildly alarmed.

“Well, the clerk probably noticed I smell mated or something. And, why are you freaking out? We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for like…” Dean does a quick tally in his head. “Three nights.”

“I just didn’t think that you…” Cas’s mouth snaps closed and Dean thinks back to him making a similar scene about sleeping arrangements last night. “I’ll take the shower first if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll just-” Cas moves so fast that the door of the bathroom slamming cuts Dean off. “I’ll just chill.”

Dean stares at the bathroom door for a good thirty seconds, wondering what just happened. Did Cas not want to sleep with him? That would make sense except for the fact that last night they slept touching the whole night and it was nice and comforting and safe, and Dean knows Cas felt the same because he smelled like happiness distilled when they woke up spooned together. Cas had looked at Dean with hooded eyes and for a few seconds Dean was sure he was going to get some morning sex, but Cas had started talking about schedules and traffic and disappeared into the bathroom. So that makes this his second shower of the day, and while Dean can appreciate wanting to wash off the road, that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense either. There’s one other possibility. The likeliest, really but Dean’s brain just doesn’t want to touch it.

Cas is being realistic about them and doesn’t want to live in the same fantasy world as Dean.

Of course that’s it. Cas is a grown up with a functional brain and he knows that they can’t keep pretending this is normal, that they’re actual mates or boyfriends or whatever, because Cas never wanted that. He may be a little weird and awkward but he's not a disaster like Dean. He’s willing to indulge Dean and go along with the sex (which now that Dean thinks about it, only he has initiated) but Cas isn’t the same flavor of idiot as Dean. They’re sticking together cause their bodies will betray them if they separate too soon, but Can isn’t sad or desperate enough to just go with what his body wants the way Dean has been.

God, Dean is such an idiot.

Dean undresses and gets ready for bed in a cloud of guilt and self-loathing. So, normal, really. Cas takes his sweet time in the bathroom and when he finally emerges Dean is camped in bed watching some shit procedural on the TV without even seeing it, his mind stuck in a fugue of Cas and mistakes and the looming future of when this is going to become the norm. Gradual steps of disentanglement until…

“Good, that took a while,” Dean mutters, grabbing his toiletries without looking at Cas and retreating into the steamy bathroom. Dean tries not to breathe in the smell of Cas in the air, to just focus on pissing and brushing his teeth and all the mundane steps of existence. Cas is on the far edge of the bed when Dean comes back out, hair still wet and clinging to his forehead in places and arms crossed over his chest defensively. “You want to keep watching?” Dean asks, pointing at the television.

Cas shakes his head and Dean clicks off the TV before crawling under the sheets. Cas turns off the lights and joins Dean and the distance between them feels like a continent.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas says, his voice hesitant and worry in his scent. “It’s been a very…enjoyable trip so far. Thank you.”

Dean sighs, looking up in the dark at the cracks on the ceilings. He doesn’t even know if he’s mad at Cas or himself. But he doesn’t want either of those feelings. He doesn't want to fuck either. He just wants Cas back, close to him.

“A trip like this, it's a throwback for me, kind of,” Dean says and he can sense Cas looking at him. He doesn’t move. He can talk better when it’s dark and he can pretend no one hears. He can't make himself move and touch Cas if he doesn't want him but...he can be heard. “Sam and I, we used to almost live in places like this. Not even almost. We did. Dad dragged us all around, trying to find work or a place where no one knew us…had to keep his moron Omega son out of trouble, so that got him in some fights. Had to leave. Then we fought and…then we had to leave. Or he’d just get drunk and disappear on us for…a while.”

“That’s awful,” Cas says softly beside Dean as headlights from the highway flash through the window then disappear.

“He was.”

Dean hasn’t said that aloud before, even to Sam. He’d always been the one to defend John Winchester in their fights, but then the fights had gotten so bad they’d just agreed to stop having them.

“When did he die?”

Of course Cas figured that one out. Cas is a smart guy and there is no world in which Dean deserves him or the tenderness in his voice.

“When I left. I somehow made it through high school and I got into college in Michigan and I left. I got two months in and I got the call. Sam was the one that had to tell me. Dad ended up in the middle of an intersection when a semi rolled through.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I should have been there,” Dean whispers. “After Mom died…They were true mates. Or they said they were or thought it. I don’t know. But he never recovered from losing her. Not physically or any other way. Tried to drink himself through it, but that just made it worse. Eight fucking years of watching him drown and I couldn’t do anything cause I had to take care of Sam. And I know when he looked at me he saw her and when I left…We don’t know if he was passed out or if he ran a light or…” Dean shuts his eyes but it’s too late to stop the tears.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean,” Cas whispers and his voice is closer than before. Suddenly there are strong arms pulling Dean against a warm chest and the sound of Cas’s steady heartbeat in Dean’s ear and the scent of his mate all around him.

“I _left_ ,” Dean repeats. “I left my family. I should have been there for Sam.”

“It’s not a sin to do something for yourself,” Cas says against Dean’s forehead.

Dean wants to argue, he wants to apologize for breaking down like an idiot when Cas probably just wants to sleep instead of taking on more of Dean’s useless baggage. “Sorry, I –”

“I have a whole other family.” Dean blinks and looks up at Cas. His face is mostly in shadow, with the dim glow of the streetlights outside highlighting his profile. His expression is stoic and he’s not looking at Dean at all. “My father. All the travel and business and it turns out he had a whole second life. Two other kids. A husband. In Florida.”

“Jesus.” Dean breathes.

“Maybe my mother knew, I’m not sure. She didn’t fight it when he picked them.” There’s a dark edge to Castiel’s voice, obviously he didn’t forgive so easily. “He said he wanted to be there for his kids while they grew up. More so than he was for Gabe and I.”

“What a dick,” Dean says automatically and he thinks he can make out Cas smiling faintly in the dark.

“Yeah.”

“When was this?”

“When I was in college. I still speak to him. And mother. But I haven’t actually met my other siblings. Gabe hasn’t either.” Cas pulls Dean a bit closer to him, shifting his arm and turning to that they’re facing each other, sharing the scratchy pillow. “I don’t hate him though. I’m glad he’s happy.”

“He shouldn’t have-”

“People leave,” Cas states and there’s something plaintive in his eyes that has Dean blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t want to think of Cas left alone over and over, any more than he wants to remember leaving Sam. “But they do it because they feel they have to.”

“Would you?” Dean knows it’s a vague question. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking but he knows it’s big and scary. It’s the kind of thing you only say at night, in the quiet dark where nothing is real.

“No. I wouldn’t,” Cas says, barely a whisper.

Dean wants to kiss him. He want to close his eyes and forget any of this conversation happened. He wants to go home and back to his life where it was empty and normal and he knew what the future was and how he wanted it to be. He wants to hold his mate so tight that he can feel it in his blood that Dean is his. He wants to tell Cas he deserves someone who will stay, who has no doubt or regrets, someone he chose. Someone so much better than Dean.

He settles for touching Cas’s face, tender and soft in the darkness. Cas catches Dean’s hand and holds it as they fall sleep, faces just inches away. Skin against skin. Breath to breath.

 

Dean wakes up slowly. Content and relaxed and warm. The bed isn’t familiar but the body next to him is. And the scent. God, Cas smells good this morning – like walking into a cabin on a rainy day: fire and freshness and rain and fall. Dean nuzzles into his neck, pressing his chest flush with his warm alpha’s back. Cas’s back is fantastic. Well-muscled and smooth. So are his sides and arms and stomach, all of which Dean touches lazily as he drinks in his mate’s scent. Kissing at Cas’s neck seems like a great idea too, so Dean does. He lets his lips drift over his mate’s shoulder and throat until he find that one spot that makes Cas give a low, breathy groan of pleasure. Very good. The tame morning wood Dean woke up with is rapidly becoming a full hard-on and the air around them already is thick with the smell of slick and sex. Dean shifts so that his dick is perfectly in the cleft of his alpha’s ass and grinds against him hard and slow, only their sleep pants keeping him from real friction. It’s amazing and Dean makes a happy noise that Cas matches.

Dean’s hand drifts down Cas’s chest and stomach to the alpha’s own hardening cock. Dean pushes down Cas’s pants and takes him in hand. He gives a few lazy strokes as he keeps kissing at Cas’s neck and ear and jaw and the way Cas writhes at the touch is delicious. Dean flicks his thumbs over the crown, smearing precome and making Cas gasp. Dean’s brain is still too fuzzy to think of anything to say so he just chuckles, low and smug, into Cas’s hair.

Dean goes easily when Cas flips around, pulling off shirts and pants so they're naked quickly before he pins Dean to the bed with his arms above his head. His blue eyes are dark and his mouth is a sin waiting to happen. Dean bucks his hips, nudging their cocks softly together before Cas kisses him, hot, hungry and deep. If feels like it’s been forever since Cas has touched him, explored Dean’s body with desperate, reverent hands and mouth. Dean’s missed it and he makes sure to let Cas know he approves with the noises he makes and the way he pushes into his mate’s touch. Cas doesn’t take too long before pushing Dean’s legs apart and sliding his hand gently past Dean’s sac to his dripping hole. Dean bites his lips at the first intrusion of Cas’s fingers into him, his head falling back in pleasure as Cas sucks a new mark onto his throat.

“Cas…” It’s the first word he’s said all morning and his voice is hoarse and needy. Cas’s finger pushes deeper, circling and exploring until he finds the sweet spot that makes stars burst in Dean’s head. He breathes shallow and fast as Cas opens him up bit by bit, adding a second finger then a third as Dean knits his fingers in his alpha’s hair and groans for more.

Cas pulls back, eyes locking with Dean as he withdraws his fingers. He doesn’t leave his mate empty for long though, and when he pushes into Dean he doesn’t look away or even blink. When Dean has taken him entirely they are still, staring at each other in the buttery first light of dawn. Dean suddenly feels as raw as the night before, all the memories and confessions pressing against the walls of his mind and threatening to topple them. He can’t think of that so he moves, wrapping his legs around Cas and rocking his hips. Cas feels so good inside him, so fucking strong and sold above him as he fucks steadily into Dean. Dean lets himself float, his mind going deliriously blank save for the perfect feel of Cas taking all the pleasure he can from Dean’s body and returning it in kind. Dean gropes for his own cock, biting and kissing at one of Cas’s arms where they bracket his head, braced on the sheets. He wants his mate to watch him come, wants Cas to see how good he makes Dean feel, the fucking amazing things his cock does to his omega. Dean moves faster, meeting each thrust as he feels the first pulls of Cas’s knot at his rim.

“Dean.” The sound of his name, broken and thin, on Cas tongue is the last push he needs. His hips buck and his legs lock around his alpha and he comes, splashing white onto his mate’s skin. Cas gives a low, long groan and…pulls back, coming inside Dean but not letting his knot catch. He shudders above Dean through the aftershocks, and Dean can feel come leaking out of him, mixing with his slick but not trapped inside. Sure being knotted face to face is sort of awkward anyway, but it’s the first time Cas has done that when they’ve fucked in bed. Dean’s too high on his own orgasm to be too disappointed, so he pushes the worry away. They’re both panting and Cas is flushed and sweaty and fucking gorgeous. Dean pulls him down into one final long kiss and smiles as they part.

“Mornin’, Cas.”

“Good morning,” Cas murmurs. His face is open and happy as he looks down at Dean. And then it’s like the lights go off and something sad replaces the affection in Cas’s eyes. Cas makes a show of looking at the clock and rolls off of Dean. “We should get going,” Cas mutters and heads to the bathroom without a word, leaving Dean cold and confused.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean asks, scrambling out of the messy sheets and boy howdy does he not envy the poor sap that has to clean up after they leave. Or the next guest.

“I’m fine,” Cas says over the sound of running water and Dean frowns.

Last night had been awkward yeah, but they hadn’t fallen asleep angry and they woke up pretty damn happy. Now Cas is back to putting distance between them and it makes something awful squirm under Dean’s skin. It’s not quite the panic of rejection from his mate, though maybe that’s there too.

Cas emerges cleaned up and teeth brushed and goes right for his clothes like he’s actually shy about being naked in front of Dean which is sort of hysterical considering he was just _in_ Dean a few minutes before. Dean takes his turn in the bathroom and Cas is fully dressed – in fresh dark slacks and a button up, dear god does Dean need to get him some jeans – when Dean comes out. There’s tension in his scent again, not necessarily defensive, but a sharp antsy twist that has Dean on edge too.

“Did I…” Dean stops himself from talking more. It’s just gonna make things worse. No good ever came from open communication no matter what Sam or Charlie or anyone else says. “Never mind.” Dean pulls on his clothes and when he’s done Cas is staring at him, a look of conflict and guilt on his face.

“Dean. We need to talk.”

"Cas..."

"We can't do this anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH OH. 
> 
> More angst coming your way but...how much is the question...
> 
> I have my SPN Holiday mixtape fic coming out on Saturday, but I'll hopefully have another update on here within a week. I won't make you suffer too long.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I told you I wouldn't make the wait for the continued angst too bad...
> 
> A note because someone asked: My idea of blockers is sort of like deodorant. In my mind they're about as common and many omegas and alphas use them because they don't want their feelings broadcast to everyone via their scent. Also in terms of demographics of this world I have a pretty vague idea but betas are the most common by a bit, maybe a bit over forty percent of the population split evenly by gender. Alphas and Omegas each make up maybe thirty percent of the population each, with male alphas and female omegas being more common. Female alphas like Amara do have the ability to knot and impregnate, just so that's clear.

“What?”

It’s been a few years, thankfully, since anyone has gut punched Dean but he remembers the feeling well enough to know this is worse.

“We can’t keep ignoring this situation.” Cas looks as uncomfortable and unhappy as Dean feels. It's not comforting.

“Come on, it’s working fine so far.” Dean plasters on his best fake, flirty smile but Cas just looks drained and done. He takes a deep breath and Dean knows he’s not gonna like what’s coming.

“Dean, if our goal is to eventually…separate, we can’t keep doing this.”

And there it is. Part of Dean’s been waiting for Cas to finally say it, to call him on the bullshit. Still sucks to actually hear it. “The sex, you mean?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have…This morning shouldn’t have happened.” Cas looks like he’s confessing to robbing a bank and Dean feels like his brain just had engine failure or something.

“Hey, I was there and it seemed like you had an okay time.” Dean scents, trying to get a bead on what Cas really feels, maybe a ping of arousal or something but there’s nothing but a flat chemical undertone. Cas is wearing Dean’s blockers. He’s serious about this.

“Of course I did. I…liked it. Very much,” Cas says softly and there’s a big obvious ‘too much’ that goes unsaid.

“Then why do you want to stop?” Dean knows he’s being obstinate and obtuse and he doesn’t fucking care. He takes a step towards Cas and the alpha retreats, gesturing tensely for Dean to stay back.

“This isn’t what you want. We have to end this eventually. Better sooner than later.”

“What about what you want? That sort of matters too.” Dean shoots back. “How the hell do you feel about this, Cas? Cause I’ve heard a lot of you talking about me and we never talk about you.”

“What I feel is irrelevant,” Cas says too quickly and starts going for his bags, doing that whole avoiding thing he’s so good at that Dean suddenly hates.

“The fuck it is,” Dean snaps and grabs Cas by the shoulder, intruding into his space.

“Dean…” 

Dean may not be able to smell it but he can see how much just a touch affects Cas; the way his body wants to relax into the contact and how he stops himself.

"You like the sex, why stop?"

“Mating is a chemical dependency,” Cas argues, stern and incredibly frustrating as he pulls away from Dean again. “The more we continue to be intimate, the stronger it will get.” Dean wonders if Cas has ever fired someone and if he was this shitty at it.

“Cas, come on.” Dean tries to approach once more, smiling and placating and once more Cas retreats away.

“I’m serious, Dean,” Cas declares, ice in his voice. “It may feel good but…This. Us. It’s just biology.”

And there’s that gut punch feeling again.

“Wow. Okay,” Dean mutters, his arms falling to his sides in defeat. Cas looks pained but Dean doesn’t care at the moment. It’s probably just _biology_ anyway. Cas is a big boy, he can do the mind over matter thing and get his brain to shut down the things his body wants. And so can Dean. “Let’s just go.”

“Dean…”

Dean grabs their bags and pushes out the door. “Come on, I know you’ve got a schedule to keep up.” The blockers are doing their job and dampening any worry in Cas’s scent that might console Dean he’s just as upset. He's probably not cause he's a fucking robot who can turn his feelings off. He can still smell Dean's distress of course. That leaves Dean feeling exposed and stupid as he dumps the bags in the trunk and Cas follows after. “Go check out.”

Cas nods and disappears towards the office. Dean immediately digs into his bag and pulls out the blockers he’s been declining to use and rolls them on awkwardly under his shirt and even at his neck. He shoves the roller back in with his unfolded clothes and toiletries and notices the bottle of suppressants wedged at the bottom of the bag.

He should take them. They dampened his libido for years and half of whatever is going on with Cas has got to be a side effect of just being able to feel horny again. His body is just catching up after years of not getting laid, especially now that it thinks it’s found The One. His body is a bigger moron than him and he should just tell it to fuck off with a pill.

“Dean, would you mind driving?” Dean looks up and Cas is standing way too close, as usual, and how long did Dean stand there angsting while Cas was doing something useful. Cas’s face is hesitant and contrite and very annoyingly hard to stay mad at. “I’d like to get some work done remotely if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean says and slams the trunk closed. 

 

Things are quiet and awful for the first fifty miles into Wyoming. They eat McDonald’s for breakfast and things maybe warm up when they both agree that biscuits are far superior to McMuffins but then Cas pulls out his laptop and starts clicking away for two fucking hours. Listening to Cas take a work call is boring and annoying, but it’s fine when he’s just doing whatever it is he does. At the moment it looks like sending a few emails and reviewing some project spreadsheet and designs Dean can’t make out. They’re not Dean’s, probably, and Dean is in no way or form jealous of whoever the other architect is getting Cas’s attention. He actually feels sorry for the guy. Yeah. Because Cas is a fucking asshole and he’s writing a goddamn essay in that email and probably detailing all the ways that idiot sucks. And all the shit he has to fix about himself…or his designs. Or whatever. Guy’s in for a fun morning getting torn apart.

Cas clicks his mouse and Dean hears the telltale _whoosh_ of the email finally being sent to it’s unfortunate target and Cas starts in on another file. Just as Dean glances over to note the alpha’s serious frown, his phone pings to alert him he has a new email.

“Tell me that novel you just wrote isn’t sitting in my in box,” Dean groans.

Cas looks up like he’s surprised Dean is even still there. “I wanted to thoroughly outline the next steps and timelines for the project, so everyone is on the same page when we get to work tomorrow.”

“Dude, we’re not gonna get home until like, mid-afternoon, maybe noon if we push it today. I’m not going into the office!”

“Well, I’d like to. Or I can get you input now,” Cas replies, as serious as a heart attack and Dean just about has one.

“But we’re…” Dean’s about to say on vacation before he remembers what this is. Despite the sex and the relaxing for the last few days, this isn’t some road trip he’s taking for fun. He’s driving across half the county with a bitchy alpha because some wires got cross when they accidentally fucked and his body will go into meltdown if they separate for too long because biology is a punk ass douche. And isn’t it nice of Cas to remind him of that. “You know what? Fine. It’ll kill time. Go.”

“Well, obviously the most complex aspect of getting started will be the permitting process, which Sam has already started work on…”

Dean thanks whatever god is watching that he doesn’t pass out from boredom and drive off the road as they talk and talk about the project. Okay, maybe it’s not so bad. Cas is really fucking good at his job, and once he loses reception on his phone and the Wi-Fi hot spot goes away too, his focus is completely on Dean. They switch off driving and Cas puts on a fucking _symphony_ to listen to as they keep talking but it’s almost normal. Though normal ins’t really something they have. Dean can at least pretend for a while that there isn’t a giant ball of anxiety and disappointment tangled in his insides. Eventually they run out of action points and fade into the same awkward silence from before.

“Guess you’re gonna want to go over all of this again with Sam too, since he’s Mr. Paperwork,” Dean mutters after they’ve been quiet for too long. He stares out the window at the dry hills of Wyoming instead of looking at Cas not looking at him.

“Yes, but talking with you has given me very good information that should make the process go smoothly,” Cas says.

“Well, that’s my specialty, keeping things running smoothly.” Dean’s surprised by the contempt in his own voice and he thinks he gets a whiff of unhappiness from Cas, but he’s not sure.

“Should we…is this a good time to talk more about…where we go from here?” Cas talks as cautiously as he drives and it makes Dean want to scream.

“What’s there to talk about? You said we need to stop fucking. So we keep our pants on.”

“Dean…”

Dean has no patience for the contrition in Cas’s voice. “No, I get it. We need to get ourselves out of this mess quick so we can be productive members of society or something.”

“That’s…Never mind,” Cas sighs. “I was just wondering about…once we get to Oregon.”

“Oh.” Dean doesn’t know what else to say. For the last few days he’s been doing a bang up job of not letting himself think past the next few hours except in the vaguest terms.

“We don’t know how much separation we can take and remain…comfortable,” Cas pushes on and even the thought makes Dean distinctly _un_ comfortable. Worse than that. His mate is planning how to leave him and it makes him want to throw up. And that reaction is just confusing and annoying. Damn, his body has fucked him over so hard _again_ Dean wants to kick his own ass.

“Well, I got a guest room. It stinks like a giant moose alpha 'cause the only person the uses it is Sam, but…you’re welcome to it,” Dean mutters, because he can’t think of anything else or anywhere else he could stand Cas being. Except maybe his bed but _that_ isn’t happening.

“Thank you,” Cas says, some real gratitude in his voice. "That should be a decent stop gap measure."

“Yeah, no problem.” Dean does not want to talk about this anymore, and since they’re moving at (exactly) seventy miles per hour he can’t really get up and take a walk. So, Cas’s method of avoidance it is. Dean tries not to make too much of a spectacle of himself as he twists and grabs his computer from the back. He flips the screen around into tablet mode, pulls out the stylus and starts working on a design.

It’s like the world falls away. Sometimes it’s easy for Dean to forget why he’s such a workaholic, but it’s not that complicated. When he’s working – creating and doing something he’s pretty good at – nothing else matters. He can be confident and sure in those moments before the design leaves his hands, just envision and dream. He’s not in charge of anything or anyone and it’s just him and a pen and it’s sort of like magic.

When his low battery alarm goes off and Dean looks up at the clock it’s been two hours. He’s pretty content with the design for now and shuts of the program with a satisfied sigh that gets Cas’s attention.

“What’s that?”

It takes Dean a second to realize Cas is glancing at the tablet screen, not some obstruction on the road. Of course the guy would notice the one personal thing Dean has on his computer. “It’s a design sketch, Cas, I think you’ve seen those.”

“That’s not the one you were working on.” Cas peeks again before Dean can flip the screen background to close the computer. “You have one of your designs as your desktop background?”

Dean sighs heavily and shifts in his seat. “It’s my first design, okay. I keep it there to remind myself how far I’ve come or some shit,” he finally confesses.

“You should be proud of it, it’s good,” Cas says like that sort of comment isn’t a fucking miracle coming from him.

“Thanks, I think. And how did you know it was mine? Could just be some random piece of crap.”

“The bay window,” Cas says easily and Dean raises an eyebrow. “They’re your signature.”

Dean stares at Cas as he chances another look at him from the driver’s seat. It had taken _Sam_ like a year of working with Dean to ask what was with the bay windows. And now Cas…Dean really wishes the guy would just go back to being an asshole.

“When I was a kid, like, seven or something,” Dean starts and he doesn’t even know why he’s talking. “We went on a trip, drove all the way up highway 101 from SF to the Olympics, and we stopped for a few days and a little town on the Oregon coast and rented a beach house. It’s wasn’t much but it had a great view and it had this bay window.” Dean still smiles at the memory. Maybe the picture in his head has been airbrushed by time and nostalgia, but it’s still nice. “And I just remember sitting there on these big pillows they had, with Mom and Dad and Sammy, looking out at the ocean and feeling…I don’t know. Safe and amazed at the same time.”

“That sounds…very nice,” Cas says, sounding wistful.

“Yeah it was.” Dean watches as Cas opens his mouth to ask something then chickens out and closes it, casting a nervous glance from the road to Dean. “Dude, if you wanna ask something, go for it. We got nothin’ but time.”

Cas takes a deep breath and nods. “How did you end up an architect?”

Dean blinks. He wasn’t actually expecting that. “Oh. Uh, kinda a long story.”

“We got nothin’ but time,” Cas parrots and Dean rolls his eyes.

“So, after Dad…you know…Well, we didn’t have any relatives for Sam to go to, so he ended up in foster care in fucking Oklahoma. I had to quit school and get a job so I could get custody. I moved and worked about four different jobs, but I eventually got Sam back. The judge went into all that 'omegas are natural nurturers bull shit,' but I didn’t care. I had Sam and that was what mattered. Anyway. Raising a teen as an omega in the middle of hick country wasn’t the most fun and it wasn’t where we wanted to be anyway. So our social worker, Pamela, she said she knew a guy up in Portland who could maybe get me some steady work if I didn’t mind sweat. I’d heard Portland was a pretty liberal town when it came to omega rights and shit so, we moved, and that’s how I ended up working for Bobby.”

“Bobby Singer? You’ve mentioned him,” Cas says with warmth in his tone that reflects how Dean must talk about Bobby.

“Yeah, he ran a construction company, small one, and was always there to offer a job to people that couldn’t find them elsewhere. Especially omegas.”

“That’s unique, at least from what I know about construction.”

“Well, Bobby’s mate, she was an omega. And…” Dean winces at the memory. “Let’s just say he had some good reason to not tolerate anyone treating omegas like meat. He gave me a job, helped Sam and I find place and get Sam into a good school district; all that shit, even when he didn’t have to. Kind of adopted us and really took me under his wing, god knows why.”

Cas makes a small noise of disagreement and Dean ignores him.

“But I loved it actually. Building things, making people homes. It had been so fucking long since Sam and I had had one, ya know? And I was pretty good at it. And after a little while I started getting ideas about what things could be, and then I sketched one out and…” Dean nods towards his closed computer. “Bobby helped get me into the architectural program at Portland State. I had to keep working full time to pay for it, so finishing took forever, and Sam ended up in school at the same place at the same time for a while, but…we graduated and Bobby let us start designing and building out of his shop. Sam did the business stuff, I did the creative, you know our drill. Eventually Bobby retired and gave us the money to go out on our own. We paid it back…but we couldn’t have done it without the old man.”

“He sounds like a very good person,” Cas says and Dean laughs.

“He’s an ornery old son of a bitch who drinks too much and would just as soon shoot someone as talk with ‘em but…he’s family.”

Dean watches as Cas smiles at that. It’s that sort of sad smile he gets sometimes when Dean talk about home or his family. It makes Dean remember that Cas didn’t ever find someone like Bobby, or have someone to take care for Sam.

“So, uh, where do you wanna get lunch?” Dean asks, his mind straying too close to the night before and their quiet words in the dark. Cause that will make him think about this morning and how easy and good it had felt with Cas. Or it will make him think about Cas saying sometimes people have to leave but Cas wouldn’t. Dean doesn’t get it: how Cas could say something so raw and real and for it be bulshit. “Maybe Dairy Queen?” Dean goes on, pushing down all his stupid thoughts. “You ever notice how you can be in the middle of fucking nowhere and there’ll be a Dairy Queen?”

“I have noticed that.”

 

The rest of the drive is…fine. They switch off and Dean gets them about halfway through Idaho before Cas takes over again and Dean naps or a while, but not really. He tries not to think too hard. They listen to the radio and talk about nothing and when the sun sets they just keep driving. And Dean starts failing at not thinking too hard. Dean wonders if they can maybe push all the way through to Portland but after the worst Taco Bell in Boise for dinner and three red bulls they end up giving up in Eastern Oregon and pull into a motel in Baker City at eleven.

Dean lets Cas handle the check in cause he doesn’t want to be the one dealing with asking for two beds. He doesn’t like the sight of those two beds when they get to the room either. In fact it makes his skin crawl and he knows that Cas can probably smell his discontent through the fading blockers. He doesn’t like that he can’t make a ‘ride me, cowboy’ joke when they see all the rodeo paraphernalia on the walls. He doesn’t like thinking that his morning was probably the last time he and Cas will have fucked and he didn’t even know that.

“Do you want to shower first?” Cas asks meekly and that pisses Dean off too, because Cas shouldn’t be pussy footing around him. Cas is a fucking alpha, _his_ fucking alpha and he gets defensive when assholes look at his mate wrong and fucks Dean like it’s a matter of life and death and…

“Go ahead, whatever you want,” Dean grumbles and Cas retreats quickly to the bathroom.

Dean falls onto the bed closest to the windows and the day hits him like a truck. Maybe the drive had been fine, but he feels like shit now. Not the way he did when they were separated during his heat. This is a whole new flavor of feeling like the crap at the bottom of someone’s shoe. Each mile had apparently dug him deeper into the funk of…whatever this is. He doesn’t want to name it or push it beyond the category of ‘bad mood because Cas is being a jack ass.’ Except he isn’t. He’s being reasonable and respectful and actually taking steps to start getting them out of this mess and it _pisses Dean the fuck off_ because why would he want to do that, the mess was just fine!

Dean digs his phone out of his pocket and fires off a text. He’s been keeping Sam updated along the way, but he has been avoiding Charlie 'cause he wasn’t into being yelled at about what an idiot he is, but maybe he needs that now. His phone rings a second later.

“Hey, Charlie,” Dean answers, voice tired and resigned.

“Good, you’re alive,” Charlie snaps.

“I’ve been checking in.”

“A few texts telling me you’re dealing with shit are not reassuring, especially after Sam told you’re doing a damn cross country trip with your accidental husband!” Well, good thing to know Charlie has not chilled.

“Well, if it makes you feel better he’s being a perfect gentlemen,” Dean grumbles, glancing at the bathroom door where he can hear the sound of the shower.

“Dean are you okay? You sound kinda pissed,” Charlie asks. “And not like your normal level of pissed at the world, extra pissed.”

“I am not normally pissed at the world!” Dean snaps, sitting up and bristling in offence.

“Not the point, Dean. What’s going on? Is Novak getting on your nerves?”

Dean bites his lips 'cause he doesn’t know how to explain. That’s what he wants Charlie to do. “It’s kinda weird and messy.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

Dean scowls but doesn’t comment because she’s not wrong. “So, Cas uh, helped me out through my heat…”

“Meaning you fucked like bunnies for three days. Awesome and ew,” Charlie says impatiently. “Also, not gonna help you when you get out of this.”

“Yeah, well that’s what I was getting to. He’s all over that now.” Dean squirms as he says it, the memory of Cas retreating from him that morning still stinging, maybe even more than it did then. “No more happy horizontal times for us.”

“And that’s a…bad thing?” Charlie’s voice is confused, which Dean gets.

“I don’t know…I was just sort of…enjoying stuff,” Dean confesses haltingly. “Felt good, ya know? To just be with someone.”

“Dean, whatever you’re feeling is just chemicals in your brain,” Charlie argues and Dean reminds himself again that this is what he needs to hear. Cas gets it. Dean needs to too.

“I know,” Dean sighs. “How do normal mates do this though?”

“What?”

“Like…if scent bonds and this shit happens to other people, how do they deal with it? How do they separate the legit stuff from the…the biology?” Charlie is quiet on the other end of the line and Dean checks to see if the call disconnected. “Charlie?”

“Dean, you don’t actually…do you like Novak?”

“Of course I like him, he's a good guy,” Dean replies without a second thought. “Once you get to know him he’s pretty cool. Weird, yeah, but-”

“No, no; do you _like_ him?”

“What are you, fourteen?”

“Dean, come on. Are you upset cause your crush isn’t talking to you?”

“What? No! Shut up.” Dean’s heartbeat is racing for a completely different reason now and he pushes away the stupid idea that this about anything other than Cas being a stick in the mud about perfectly great sex they could be having.

“Dean…”

The shower shuts off and Dean scrambles up. This is the opposite of the conversation he wanted and now his mate is gonna walk out of the bathroom naked and Dean’s gonna have all sorts of thoughts and feeling that he is in no way equipped for. Shit. 

“Gotta go. Bye, Charlie,” Dean mutters and hangs up.

He doesn’t make eye contact with Cas when he comes out, though he can’t avoid seeing some shining, wet skin out of the corner of his eye. He shoves past the alpha, carrying his whole bag and slams the door behind him.

“It’s just biology,” Dean repeats to himself, taking deep breaths of steamy air and that was the absolute wrong thing to do, because the air smells like Cas and it hits Dean like a shot of good whiskey. He is still biology’s bitch. “Fuck.”

Dean strips and jumps in the shower, trying not to huff the air like a tweaker with a can of spray paint and paper bag. He turns on the water and he doesn’t care that it’s cold at first. Hell, maybe that will even help. The smell of Cas is even stronger in the shower though and Dean doesn’t actually get that, because the water should help, but the shower smells like a perfect smoky autumn day with that undertone of spice and sweet that Cas’s scent always takes on when he’s turned on and there’s even…Dean sniffs deeper and holy shit, yes. There it is: the quickly fading but very distinct and familiar scent of Cas’s come. He was jacking off in the shower.

“You _fucker_ ,” Dean groans cause just the thought has him hard. He’s turned on and pissed off and that’s just confusing. Dean grabs his dick and starts stroking but it’s barely a relief at all. He thinks about Cas in the same space, doing the same thing but not for the same reason. Or maybe not? Cas wants him, he knows that. Every time they’ve fucked it’s been clear as day. Dean can’t help but stifle a moan at that thought, as he jerks himself fast and hard. Cas’s body is hardwired to want Dean, but just his body. Sure he thinks Dean is tolerable but…

In his mind Dean hears Cas’s voice, whispering that Dean is beautiful, that he won’t leave, that Deas is _his_. And that’s not supposed to make Dean feel things, it’s not supposed to make a wave of pleasure that has nothing to do with the wet friction on his cock sweep through him. How is that just chemical? And how is that something Cas is just fucking okay with giving up? Nothing makes sense; Dean’s body is screaming that and something in his head too. If someone as good as Cas wants him, Dean he doesn’t fucking care _why_. And he wants Cas. He wants him so much it makes his toes curl and his eyes roll back thinking of him inside him. He comes, quick and unsatisfying, but at least it clears his mind for a few seconds.

God he is so screwed.

Dean finishes washing and getting ready for bed in sort of a haze. At least he’s sure of one thing now: he wants Cas. Though he has no idea what it means and he’s not fucking poking at it but…it’s a thing that he knows at least. It’s probably something he should tell Cas when he gets around to growing a spine, but when Dean comes out of the bathroom the lights are already off and Cas is under the covers in his bed, curled towards the wall.

Dean sighs, probably a bit too loudly to be polite but Cas doesn’t move. That’s fine. It’s been a long day and it’s probably best to just get some sleep. Dean’s not even sure if he wants to talk or what he wants to say. He gets under the cold, starchy sheets and turns on his side, away from Cas, tugging the pillow under his head. It’ll be better in the morning. Dean waits for sleep to come and it turns out that if sleep were a person it’d be sitting in the corner laughing at him.

Maybe if he can make it through a night without Cas next to him, his head will get itself back on straight. It’s good practice for tomorrow when Cas is going to insist on sleeping in the guest room. Until he’s ready to get his own place then head home to Chicago. Maybe at some point Dean's hormones or brain chemistry or whatever will let him go and he won’t feel sick and terrified at that idea. Maybe. But not right now. Right now the idea of Cas leaving is as bad as the idea of him dying and _fuck that._

Dean turns over in bed, peering across the dark room at the still lump of his mate’s form in the other bed. It’s not really dark. There’s a bright moon shining outside so that the whole room is just shades of black and blue. It’s a nice enough motel that they’re a bit back from the sounds of the highway so it’s quiet. Not even the hum of an icemaker or AC to drown out the sound of Dean’s thoughts. Or the sound of Cas’s breathing, which isn’t the steady breath of someone asleep. Dean breathes deeply, trying to get some of Cas’s scent from across the room. He wouldn’t have put it past the fucker to put on blockers to sleep, but no…his scent is there and it’s laced with nervousness and anxiety.

It’s sort of comforting that Cas can’t sleep either. And also maddening. Dean kind of wants to let him suffer or enjoy it or something. He literally made this bed, he should lie in it. Except that makes Dean think back to last night or all the other shit he’s learned about Cas in the last few days. In his mind he sees an image clear as day of a young Cas standing stoic and silent when his father says he’s giving up their family for a new one. Or watching his brother fly the coop. Or his boyfriend fuck around with everyone he knows. Becuse people leave Cas, and he forgives them for it.

And Cas knows Dean wants to leave, _has_ to leave. And he’s lying alone in bed, taking it like a martyr while his mate is five feet away and they are both idiots.

“This is stupid,” Dean says into the darkness, throwing off the sheet.

“What?” Cas asks, of course completely awake and turning to look at Dean as he crosses the space between them. “Dean, what are you…”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting in bed with my fucking mate,” Dean growls as he settles under the covers close to Cas’s warmth.

“Dean…”

“I’m not gonna jump your bones,” Dean sighs. “I just want to be close to you. Just for tonight, okay? Unless you seriously want me to go.”

Cas stares at him in the dark for a long moment then finally shakes his head.

“Ok, good. That’s settled,” Dean says and pulls Cas to him and into his arms. There’s nothing sexual at all about it. They’re both in sleep pants and tees so he really can’t feel much of Cas’s skin. But they settle together, Cas’s head sort of on Dean’s shoulder, his limbs heavy on Dean, grounding and protecting him, their mingled scents a perfect blend in the still air. He feels Cas relax beside him and the contentment in his scent is soothing and good.

“We still need to figure this out,” Cas whispers.

“In the morning.”

 

Dean groans at the sound of Cas’s phone alarm and burrows under a pillow while Cas shuts it off. He feels Cas moving to get up beside him and he really wants to pull his alpha back into bed and either snuggle or fuck him – whichever will keep him there.

“Why are you up? It’s not even light,” Dean demands, groping for Cas.

“It’s seven, I usually get up at six,” Cas says, his voice rough and warm as he catches Dean’s hand and presses close to him, nuzzling at his neck. It’s very nice until Cas pulls the pillow away and Dean is assaulted with daylight. “And it’s not dark at all.”

“You’re a monster,” Dean whines as Cas pulls away.

“Good morning to you too,” Cas says and disappears into the bathroom.

Dean blinks blearily and stretches, the memory of how he came to be in Cas’s bed this morning slowly returning, along with the tumult of questions and doubts and general angst that would make a teenage girl tell him he was being overdramatic. The shower starts and Dean knows exactly what Cas is doing, or trying to do.

Dean’s almost as surprised as Cas is to find himself walking into the cramped hotel bathroom and pulling back the shower curtain. Cas looks amazing and already half debauched under the water with his hard cock in hand.

“Dean!” Cas gasps as Dean steps under the water, pushing Cas’s hand away and replacing it with his own.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” Dean says, pushing Cas up against the wall of the shower and stroking him thorough and slow.

“Yes, we…oh fuck…” Dean shifts and notches his own cock in the juncture of Cas’s leg and hip and grinds against him. “If we want to…” Cas is panting and writhing against Dean and it’s already making Dean delirious.

“If we want to move on or split up or whatever, yeah, I heard you yesterday,” Dean moves his hand faster on Cas’s cock in between them, taking extra care at the slit with his thumb and the first swell of Cas’s knot at the base. “What if I don’t want to?”

“What?” Cas’s face is such a perfect mix of confusion, lust, panic and ecstasy that Dean has no choice but to kiss him. Cas fucking melts into it. Dean twists his hand just so and slides the other up Cas’s thigh and over his ass, his finger trailing just slightly between his cheeks and that earns Dean a new moan and shudder. Dean tentatively grazes Cas’s hole with a fingertip, pulling out of the kiss to watch the alpha’s reaction. It’s wonderful. He circles his fingers and Cas’s eyes fall closed in pleasure. Dean keeps working Cas’s dick as he carefully slips one finger inside and holly shit Cas was serious about liking that. The first experimental push has Cas coming apart and when Dean pushes further in, crooking his finger just so, that’s all Cas needs to come, pouring creamy white over Dean’s fist.

Dean barely has a moment to be smug before he’s been flipped, his back now against the wall and Cas is sinking to the shower floor in front of him. God it’s been too long since the last time he was in Cas’s mouth. Yeah he knows it was like, three day ago but it seems like eternity. Or maybe time loses meaning when his cock is lost in the wet heat of Cas’s mouth, Dean’s not sure and does not fucking care because this is good. This is right and hot and when Cas swallows around him it’s amazing. Dean fucks into Cas’s mouth without thinking and it has his mate moaning in pleasure around his cock. Dean would maybe be embarrassed by how fast and easy he comes but he doesn’t have the brain power or will for it. He looks down in time to see Cas pull off and lick his lips and the water continues to pour over them.

He likes seeing Cas like this, looking up at him without pretense or barriers and totally open and real. He’s even more gorgeous than usual and Dean doesn’t want to see that look disappear behind all those wall of control and propriety again.

“Okay, Cas, let’s try this talking thing again.”

 

  
“We should be driving, not eating,” Cas says, looking nervously around the diner as he picks at his omelet.

“Important conversations require real food and no possibility of people driving off the road 'cause they get pissed off,” Dean says, and if he’s quoting Sam, Cas doesn’t need to know.

“I’m just...” Cas scowls as Dean takes another bite of bacon. “I’m confused.”

“Yeah there's a lot of that going around.”

Cas doesn’t laugh. He’s looks as shell-shocked and skittish as he has since they left the hotel. “Dean, I just need to know what you want,” he says and the surrender in his voice is unnerving. “I can’t say no to you. I just need to know what you’re asking.”

Dean stares at the alpha. His blue eyes are so clear and helpless and everything about him is breathtaking and he wants to put Dean first and that just…makes absolutely no sense. “I don’t know what I want,” Dean says softly, hedging.

“That’s not very helpful.”

“I know!” Dean sighs. “Listen, I never wanted a mate. I’ve seen what it can do to people.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I assume this you’re referring to your parents.”

“Yes. Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Cas doesn’t deserve the bite in Dean’s tone. Dean tries to calm down. This is supposed to be a positive talk or something. “I saw how losing a mate fucked up my dad, yeah. Seen it with other folks too. And so I never wanted to get mixed up in all of that,”

“And that’s exactly why-“

“Except now I have a mate so that ship has sailed!” Dean barks and one of the other diners sends him a glare. Cas on the other hand is staring at him like tentacles are growing out of ears.

“Dean, what…are you saying?” Cas asks slowly and Dean can feel his blood moving a bit too fast and his cheeks heating.

“I want you, okay?” he says, looking down at his bacon and half eaten potatoes and poking them with a fork.

“I am aware of that,” Cas replies and there’s something almost bitter in his tone and Dean realizes he thinks this is still just about sex.

“No, I mean, I want you enough to maybe think we could possibly…” Dean is suddenly reminded of that one time some friends convinced him to jump off a cliff into the ocean. “Give this a shot.”

“Give this a shot,” Cas repeats as if he’s not sure he really heard it.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?” To say Cas looks dubious would be a massive understatement.

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaims. “I’ve never done the whole serious relationship thing, okay?”

“Okay...”

“Stop retreating everything I say!”

Cas gulps and look around nervously then back at Dean. “What is it you…envision?” Now that, Dean can do.

“So, when we get to Portland, you’re staying. With me. As long as you’re there. That’s not a question, okay?” Cas just nods, looking imminently confused. “And you’re gonna sleep in my bed because I don’t want to spend a night without you. And…we’ll go from there.”

“So you want to be…Roommates?”

“Yeah!” Dean grins. “Emphasis on the mate part.”  

Cas doesn’t seem as excited as Dean. “That have sex.”

“Well, duh.”                           

Cas cocks his head and squints, like he’s trying to figure out at what point in the last few days Dean lost his mind.

“Are you…okay with that?” Dean asks after Cas is quiet for a bit too long.

“I, uh…” Cas pokes at his food, thinking about this far too deeply for Dean’s comfort. “I think so, yes,” he says at last and Dean feels like a sack of bricks just fell off his shoulders.

“Okay. Cool.” Dean grins and Cas returns a shy, lop-sided smile that’s just about the sweetest thing Dean’s ever seen. “So, let’s finish up breakfast and get home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's one way to handle things, Dean. I'm sure it will be smooth sailing when you get home and Sam find out the mess his brother has gotten himself into...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am putting this up way too late at night to publish in the morning and so I am sorry if there are even more typos than usual. I'm gonna be in the car/in Seattle all day Friday and Saturday and I didn't want to wait. Oh yeah, if it's not incredibly apparent from this chapter where I live, I don't know what to tell ya.
> 
> Warning: Brief discussion of past sexual assault (Dean/Other).

The final leg of the drive goes fast in the sense that it’s only five hours or so, and slow in the sense that Dean cannot fucking wait to get home. He hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in his own bed for a _week_ and he’s ready to just be back in his own space and his own town full of his friends and family. When they make it around the final curve of I-84 and Portland comes into view, Dean gives a sigh of happiness. He ignores the fond look that Cas gives him and accelerates.

He watches Cas take in the view of downtown as they cross over the Willamette. Dean always forgets how damn pretty the city is, with the Big Pink skyscraper in the north, the brick and blue of the KOIN tower in the middle and the hills behind. Especially coming from the Eastern dessert parts of the state, the green is astonishing. 

“You ever been to Portland before?” Dean asks as they turn north, away from downtown and towards his neighborhood.

“Only once, a few years ago. I was working so I didn’t get to see much of the city."

“Well, I’ll show you around some. It’s full of hippies and hipsters – and yes there’s a difference but Sam is gonna have to explain it to you – and everyone drives hybrids and eats organic and half my neighbors have fucking urban chickens and it rains too much but…it’s a cool town. Good beer. Good coffee. Good food in general.”

“Is there anything you like about it that doesn’t involve eating?”

“Uh, well there’s lots of parks and mountains and outdoor stuff to do, if you’re into that.” As far as Dean knows, Cas isn’t into that. Crap. “Oh! There’s a shit ton of vintage and antique sorta stores. There’s like five within walking distance of my house. You’ll like that.”

“I’ll sure I will.” Dean’s not sure if Cas is teasing him but he there’s something warm in his voice that Dean likes so that’s fine. “Tell me about your neighborhood.”

“Uh, well, I’m up in the North. Like, go any further and you’ll end up in the Columbia river. The place belonged to a friend of Bobby’s that sold it to us cheap and we gutted it and rebuilt it from the foundations up. It was sort of training wheels for us as a business and me as a designer, though Bobby didn’t tell us. When it was done we had something we could show off and that’s when Bobby basically handed us the keys to our store.”

“You never sold it?”

“It’s got it’s quirks and I’m maybe too attached to it to sell,” Dean shrugs. “The neighborhood was a bit rough when we moved in but it’s getting a spiffed up and chic like everything else in the city.”

“You object to gentrification?”

“I don’t know, it’s good for business, tough for regular folk. You can talk about that stuff with Sam.” Dean’s stomach actually twists a bit at the mention of his brother. He’s looking forward to seeing the kid but he’s also not excited for the lecture he’s going to get when Sam figures out what’s happened.

“You said Sam was protective of you,” Cas notes, doing that whole mind reading thing again. “How do you think he’ll react to…me?”

“Are you worried about Sam kicking your ass?” Dean laughs, looking over at Cas who has a very un-alpha-like look of dread on his face.

“He’s extremely tall.”

“Look, Sam worries too much about me; which is stupid ‘cause I’m the big brother and protecting people is my job. He knows I’ve been fucked over in the past so, yeah he’s a bit sensitive and then there was the thing with…” Dean stops himself, remembering the last time Sam had gotten _protective_ and the blood and police and near expulsion. “Okay, maybe I’ll talk to him alone first.”

“Dean what…” Cas closes his mouth before asking more and Dean’s glad of it. That’s a thing Dean does not need to talk about right now. Or ever.

“Hey, here we are, almost home,” Dean declares as they turn on to the[ St. Johns bridge](http://columbiariverimages.com/Images05/st_johns_bridge_2005.jpg). He still thinks it’s one of the prettiest sights in the whole city. “So, there’s a story that this bridge was like practice for the golden gate or something but it’s not true. Inspired the design though. Not that there are a lot of different ways you can do suspension bridges.”

 

 

“It’s beautiful,” Cas smiles. “I like the green.”

Dean rambles a bit more as they cross the bridge and meander through the quaint St. Johns neighborhood. He points out the really good Mexican place and the really awful teriyaki place, tells Cas where the cheap gas is and which grocery store to avoid if he goes shopping.

They pull up to the driveway beside the blue craftsman house and Dean suddenly feels like he’s presenting to the board again. What if Cas doesn’t like it? What if Cas thinks the place is crap and heads straight back for Chicago? What if Cas thinks-

“It’s beautiful.”

Cas is looking at the house and smiling, wide and sincere and Dean feels like he might float off the ground in pride.

“Wait till you see inside.”

The moment they step inside Dean feels a huge weight of tension that he hadn’t even noticed he was carrying disappear. The air is a bit stale and things are a untidy thanks to the rush he was in to leave before Chicago, but it’s _home._ They drop the bags in the front hall and he watches nervously as Cas looks around.

“Sorry it’s kinda a wreck,” Dean mutters.

“Dean this place is cleaner than most show homes, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That – and the way Cas is still smiling - makes the pride well up inside Dean again. “This wonderful.”

“Really?”

Dean tries to see the place through Cas’s eyes but it’s so hard to divorce himself from how much of his own work went into the place. He remember having to reinstall the crown moldings twice. There was the fight over wrought iron light fixture in the dining room and the huge issue with the plumbing in the downstairs powder room. He still loves how the downstairs is nearly one big open space, with focus on the fire place and the over-sized kitchen. Sam had said the TV Dean picked was too big but Sam didn’t have to live there so Dean had won.

“You hungry?” Dean asks, heading into the kitchen. “Oh by the way, here’s a cool feature.” Dean opens the big pantry and does a game show hostess gesture at the cooking supplies, spices and dry goods. “Food that’s not ramen!”

“Very funny,” Cas scowls, but there’s humor in his eyes.

“Wait until you see the pots, I’ve got like six of them, it’s gonna blow your mind.”

“Show me the rest of the house, Dean,” Cas orders and Dean grins. It’s natural as anything to take Cas’s hand and lead him upstairs. Dean’s pretty cursory with the guest room and office, and he’s only a little embarrassed that his bed had been laying unmade for a week because Cas looks very pleased with the room, especially the bay window looking out over the backyard.

“Looks like a nice spot to read,” Cas says. Dean watches as he looks at the window seat and then down into the backyard. It’s mostly overgrown beds and lawn that needs to be mowed. “You haven’t done much with the garden.”

“I’ve wanted to, but just haven’t had time. Gardening is more Sam’s thing. He’s into all the organic living crap.”

“You have room for chickens.”

“Oh my god you’re one of them,” Dean says, jaw going slack as Cas turns to him and smiles. “How does that work? You didn’t even have anything resembling real food in your kitchen! You didn’t have a cactus!”

“Just because I didn’t have a garden doesn’t mean I don’t like gardens,” Cas shrugs. “I have read that urban beekeeping is a growing trend too.”

“We are not getting bees!” Dean squawks and for some reason that makes Cas grab him and kiss him. 

They haven’t really kissed since the shower this morning. Dean had given Cas a peck after breakfast but it had been a token, nothing sexy or much of anything. This…this is sexy and warm, delivered with more longing than Dean has gotten from Cas since he was in heat. He has no idea what he did to deserve it, but he’s gonna take it. In fact he’ll take comfortable, horny Cas over the repressed robot he’s been dealing with the last few days any time. Dean pulls Cas in closer and the alpha’s hands settle on his hips. Cas has good hands, and good lips and Dean thinks for possibly not the first time that he’d be okay kissing these lips and being touched by these hands for a while. A good long while.

“The mattress is memory foam,” Dean murmurs, nuzzling their noses together when Cas pulls back. “You ever tired it?”

“I haven’t.” Just the way Cas’s voice gets _lower_ has Dean getting ideas. He had wanted to eat maybe, and change, but the idea of getting fucked hard and slow by his mate in his own bed is much more appealing.

“Well, I really think that-” Music blares from Dean’s pocket and he’s never hated the sound of Kansas more in his life. “Damnit, Sam,” Dean growls as he pulls his phone out. He’s constitutionally incapable of letting a call from Sam go to voicemail, even with Cas pressed gently against him, but Cas doesn’t seem annoyed. “Hey, Bitch.”

“Hey. Are you back yet?” Sam says. It sounds like he’s in the car, which is odd cause he should be in the office at this point in the afternoon.

“Yeah, just rolled in a few minutes ago.”

“Great, I had a thing around Alberta, you wanna do late lunch and tell me about your trip?” Dean knows that tone of voice. It’s the one Sam uses when he’s trying to be causal but has a whole different agenda going.

“I sorta wanted to decompress some," Dean says and sends Cas a ‘my brother is being weird, pardon me,’ look.

“I can grab something and come over there,” Sam offers and Dean goes tense. “Is Novak with you or did you drop him at his hotel?”

“Uh…No, you don’t need to come over,” Dean repeats, more for Cas’s benefit than Sam’s.

“Come on, I can get pizza from the place down the street.” That’s it. There is something wrong.

“Okay, what the hell? You never offer to get pizza, you don’t know anyone on Alberta and you call me the minute I get home. What’s going on?” Dean demands and Cas raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Sam says and it’s definitely his lying voice.

“Sam.”

“Okay, Charlie has been freaking out about you since like, last week and she wants me to check on you,” Sam confesses and Dean rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Has she been tracking my phone?” Dean asks and Cas looks suitably alarmed.

“She’s worried about you and she won’t tell me why but she was really insistent I talk to you. I’m headed your way now so you’re not getting out of this,” Sam says, stern now. It there’s one thing Dean has learned from years of dumb fights it’s that trying to talk Sam out of something when his mind is made up is useless.

“Jesus, fine, but I’m meeting you somewhere, okay?” Dean does not want Sam and Cas in the same house until he can explain everything. “Meet me at Signal Station, okay? You’re stuck with pizza now.”

“Fine, I’ll be there in five,” Sam says and hangs up.

Dean looks up at the ceiling and groans. “How much worse am I gonna make the conversation if I show up twenty minutes late smelling like sex?”

“Much worse,” Cas replies, annoyingly reasonable as he pulls Dean close and wraps his arms around his waist. Dean melts into him, kissing at his jaw as Cas leans even closer to whisper in Dean’s ear. “And I think I’d need much more than twenty minutes.”

“Goddamnit.” Dean gives into kissing Cas for just a second before drawing back with a whine.

“You should go, Sam sounds like he’s worried.” 

Dean pulls away, sighing at the loss of Cas’s warmth and touch. At least he can still smell him and note how the way his scent mixes with Dean’s not that he’s in his space. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great.”

“Do you…want me to come with you?” It sounds like the last thing in the world Cas wants to do, which makes Dean appreciate the offer even more.

“No. It’s much better if I keep you out of the line of fire for now.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“Yeah, well…you gonna be okay here alone for a bit?” Dean asks, more worried about Cas feeling abandoned than bored (which is kinda weird and he’s just gonna ignore that).

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“Feel free to snack if you want. Though I’m warning you: I didn’t plan on being gone so long so if anything in the fridge is growing fur, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll probably be too overwhelmed by how much is in it to notice.”

Dean grins and tugs Cas in for one more kiss that he tries to keep from getting too out of hand before he has to pull away. “Okay I’m going now.”

“You’re going to be late,” Cas orders and Dean finally is able to wrench himself away and head downstairs. He grabs his keys from the hook by the door and grins. The pizza place is close enough to walk but he’s short on time and it’s been way too long since he’s seen his baby.

Settling into the soft leather of the Impala’s seat feels just as much like coming home as walking in the front door, maybe even more. The rumble of her engine and the feel of the wheel under Dean’s hands is comforting like nothing else in the world and settles Dean as he drives away. This is more distance between him and his mate than there has been since before Alfie dropped him off five days ago. He does feel some nerves, but that could be because he’s going to face Sam. The complete panic of the first separation is gone, so that’s nice. His body must be on track with his mind for once and recognize that the distance is temporary and his mate isn’t going anywhere.

Cas isn’t going anywhere. He’s safe in Dean’s home and reasonably content and not leaving and Dean isn’t really prepared for how happy that idea makes him. But after yesterday, he can’t be blamed.

[Signal Station Pizza](http://www.signalstationpizza.com/) used to be a Gas Station, way back in the day. The owners have kept almost everything the same down to the vintage pumps and signs and Dean thinks Cas would like it a lot. The Impala certainly looks pretty in front, better than the silver Prius that Sam drives (to Dean’s constant dismay).

Sam’s already at one of the few small tables inside with two slices of pizza already set out in front of him. He looks up and smiles as Dean walks in and for a half a second Dean thinks that maybe the smell of the pizza or the wind or something will blot out the change in his scent, but Sam’s face goes from happy to confused to flabbergasted and Dean knows he’s screwed.

“Dude, what the hell?” Sam demands, standing up and glaring at Dean with a mix of rage and horror.

“Good to see you too, Sammy.”

“What the _hell_?!”

“Heard you the first time,” Dean sighs, sitting heavily and picking up a slice of pizza, meat lovers of course.

“Is this what Charlie was freaking out about, she knew you got fucking _mated_?”

“A little louder, I don’t think the people across the street heard you.”

Sam purses his lips in frustration, glancing to where the cook and kid behind the front counter are indeed staring at them. He huffs and collapses back into his seat, still glaring. “How did this happen?! What even…”

“Look, I can explain if you just, keep breathing okay?” Dean says as he finishes a bite of pizza.

“Explain. Now.” Dean reminds himself that Sam’s has good reason to be pissed and confused, still doesn’t mean Dean can’t be annoyed.

“Well, uh, last week with the Balckberry Ridge project taking up so much time I may have forgotten to take my suppressants,” Dean begins and Sam’s eyes go wide in fresh horror.

“What?”

“And with all the stress of flying and other shit I sorta…went into heat when I got to Chicago.”

“ _What_?!

“Dude, again with the yelling.”

Sam gives him a bitchface for the ages and shakes his head in consternation. “Is that what was going on when I called you? Jesus, Dean! So you…screwed some random alpha? Or did someone-”

“Oh come on, Sam!” Dean snaps. “Do you think if that was the case that I’d be this chill? Use that big brain of yours. And it wasn’t some rando. Give me some credit.”

“Mating bonds do weird things to people, Dean,” Sam mutters. “And wait…why are you chill?” Oh here it comes. Sam sniffs again and looks carefully at Dean. “You should be sick or clammy or something, right? Unless…” And there it is. “ _Novak_?”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s why you drove out here together?”

“Right-o.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yup.”

Sam stares at Dean, mouth agape, as Dean takes another bite of pizza. “How in the hell did that happen? I mean…you hate him.”

“Well, he showed up and, uh, shit happened,” Dean answers carefully. “I don’t think you want the details.”

“Ew, no.” Sam scrunches up his face. “I don’t need to hear about how my boss took advantage of my brother. I do need to know where he is so I can kick his ass.”

“Hey, hold on, Cas did not ‘take advantage of me!’” Dean protests, squirming at the implication.

“He had sex with an employee in heat!”

“Technically I’m a contractor.”

“Dean!”

“I was the one that started it.” The look on Sam’s face shows how much he believes that. “I was! He showed up and, up and we kinda…I mean, Charlie thinks…uh, we scent bonded?” Sam’s eyes go incredibly wide and Dean’s almost afraid the kid is gonna keel over.

“So you two, what? Couldn’t help it?” Sam scoffs.

“What? No!” Dean bristles. “It was fully consensual or whatever. And! It helped me get though the board presentation!” Sam does not look like he thinks that’s a good excuse. “But neither of us meant for the mating thing to happen, okay?”

“But after it did you just…just kept on going?” Sam makes it sound like that wasn’t the easiest and smartest thing to do.

“Look, we got through my heat and drove out here together cause otherwise we’ll get sick. You know how it goes,” Dean argues.

“So you’d have felt shitty for a while!”

“Sam, you…you don’t know it till you’re in it, okay?” Dean cringes at the memory. Even now there’s the first hint of something creeping under his skin, itching at him to get back to Cas. “Being away from each other or separating…it wasn’t gonna work.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it feels that way.” Dean blinks at his brother as he takes a sullen bite of pizza. “Whatever you felt or wanted or still feel…” Crap now Sam’s using that soft voice he uses with upset animals and children. “You have to know it was just the heat or the chemicals frying your brain. Do I need to remind you that you have been cursing Castiel Novak’s name for two months straight?”

“That’s cause I didn’t know him!” Dean protests and Sam looks at him like he just caught on fire or something. “What? He’s a good guy.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asks, staring Dean down like he’s worried Dean killed a man. “Where’s _Cas_ now?”

“Back at my place?" Sam’s eye brows shoot up and Dean knows that was not a good answer.

“Why is he back at your place?”

Dean takes a large bite of pizza to stall. “Cause he’s staying there?” 

“Dean! He’s our boss and like your nemesis or something!”

“He’s my mate!”

“Your accidental, temporary mate,” Sam corrects and that makes the sick, uncomfortable feeling well up in Dean again. “I mean, I really do _not_ want to know the details, but you’re not blood bonded, right?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” Dean mutters, instinctively scratching at his neck and avoiding Sam’s confounded look.

“Yet?”

Dean’s finished his pizza so he grabs Sam’s and takes a bite.

“Dean, what do you mean ‘yet?’ You guys _are_ ending this, right?”

Dean keeps chewing and Sam looks like he wants to strangle him. Or maybe just slap some sense into him. Just, something violent and reasonable. Dean finally swallows but avoids Sam’s eyes. “That was the plan at first but now...We’re gonna maybe see how things go.”

“Okay, now I know all those stories about people going nuts when they scent bond are true,” Sam says, sour and doubtful.

“I’m not nuts!” Dean exclaims and he’s pretty sure an employee is going to ask them to leave if they keep yelling.

“You’ve never been in a long term relationship. You’ve said, loudly and repeatedly for years, that mating is bullshit and you’re never touching it with a ten foot pole.”

“Come on, man, don’t quote me to me,” Dean scowls.

“And now when this happens against your will you’re just…okay with it? Dean, that’s not you.”

“It feels good,” Dean argues, though he knows he doesn’t sound convincing. “What’s wrong with just going with it?”

“What does that _mean_?”

This is the thing about Sam that sometimes drives Dean crazy. Because he can bullshit pretty much anyone else, even Charlie and a Bobby (Cas…that’s another story). But Sam sees through it and never ever lets Dean get away with anything. Of course Dean still does the stupid things, but Sam will call him on it.

“It means we’re gonna try. See where it goes,” Dean says with a shrug. “Cas is gonna stay with me and it’ll be like roommates, but with great sex.”

Sam drops his head into his hands then pushes away his floppy hair. “What about, I don’t know, feelings?”

“Haven’t talked about that,” Dean says gruffly, grabbing the now empty paper plates and standing from the table.

“Of course you haven’t,” Sam sighs, stalking after Dean. “And you don’t see _any_ potential issues there?”

“We’ll deal with it,” Dean growls as they exit towards the cars.

“Dealing with it is not a plan, Dean, it’s evasion and it’s just gonna make this worse!”

“Will you calm down?” Dean orders, stopping at the Impala and turning to where Sam is glowering at him. “This thing with Cas...it’s not bad. It’s weird and really fucking unexpected, but it’s not bad.”

“Then it’s cool if I come say hi?” Sam shoots back, unmoved by what Dean had felt was a pretty decent version of the plaintive, needy brother thing. He can smell the worry and protectiveness coming off Sam though and he knows nothing is going to deter him now.

“Are you gonna get all alpha and weird?”

“Only if he does.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Listen, Cas is an alpha, and he’s weird, but he’s not like that okay. Please just…go easy.” Sam gives Dean a suspicious look before heading to his own car. The drive home is too fast and not fast enough. Dean’s stressed and keyed up and his body just wants to get back to his mate and curl up in his warmth and scent until spring. But now Sam’s got him freaking out about fucking _feelings_.

He _feels_ like it’s stupid to think about this. How about that, Sammy? How about _that_?

Dean maybe drives a bit too fast and makes it home in time to beat Sam to the door by about a minute. Cas is sitting on Dean’s couch reading one of Dean’s old paperbacks when he comes in and it doesn’t make him feel anything at all to see that.

“Dean, you’re back sooner than I thought,” Cas says with a smile, and his happy, slightly horny scent almost knocks Dean out.  

“Uh, moose alert. I’m sorry in advance,” Dean says quickly and Cas goes pale.

“Is there going to be violence?” Cas asks just as Sam walks in the door. Cas jumps up from the couch to Dean's side  

“Knocking is a thing, Sam,” Dean admonishes but it does nothing to diffuse the tension that just went all the way to eleven.

“Hi, Castiel,” Sam says, giving the alpha a tense smile that doesn’t match the protective aggression in his scent at all. “Or should I still call you Mr. Novak?”

Castiel looks torn and Dean can’t blame him. On the one hand he’s in a strange place and an alpha he doesn’t know is making a dominance display like he’s on the national geographic channel and Dean has seen Cas go into fight mode for much less, on the other hand it’s his mate’s brother so there’s no threat and Cas probably doesn’t want to fight. The look on Cas’s face is tense and pained and his scent has gone thick with smoky defensiveness.

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with, Sam,” Cas says slowly, stepping from beside Dean and extending a hand. “It’s very nice to finally meet you in person.”

“You too,” Sam says as he shakes Cas’s hand and Dean is certain his grip is just short of crushing. Cas, in his wrinkled dress shirt and slacks, looks completely taken aback.

“You’re extremely tall.” It seems like Cas has made the wise decision not to try and out-alpha Sam. “I assume Dean has outlined the situation?”

“Yeah.” Sam hasn’t let go of Cas’s hand and is still looking daggers at him.

“And so we don’t need to get all crazy,” Dean grumbles.

“Oh I think we do,” Sam argues and Dean shoots him a furious look.

“Sam, you said you’d be cool,” Dean says, low and annoyed.

“This is me being cool,” Sam replies, not looking away from Cas. “So, I know that you’re kind of our boss and you guys have got a plan or whatever, but last guy that screwed with Dean ended up in the hospital. I put him there. Just so that’s clear.”

“Sam!” Dean yells, wishing he could still ground his little brother from...everything.

“Very clear,” Cas replies, not flinching at all and it’s actually sort of sexy. “Though I’m sad to hear it wasn’t the morgue.”

“Well, I’m not crazy about the idea of prison,” Sam replies, finally cracking a smile and releasing Cas’s hand.

“It’s very good to know Dean has people that care about him so much, though not surprising,” Cas says, solemn as usual.

“Really? 'Cause he’s kind of a pain in the ass a lot of the time.” Sam says and Cas gives a little ‘can’t argue’ shrug.

“Guys, I am standing right here,” Dean interjects, or tries to.

“So, did Dean show you where the beer is?” Sam asks, heading for the kitchen.

“It’s midafternoon on Tuesday, it’s not really the appropriate time for alcohol,” Cas says, squinting after Sam.

“Buddy, I just found out my brother got mated on accident, there is no more appropriate time,” Sam counters.

“Still fucking here…” Dean mutters. Cas touches Dean gently at the small of his back, probably to reassure him that he does still exist and they join Sam at the kitchen counter where he passes Dean a beer automatically. “You want a beer?” Dean asks Cas, standing a bit closer to him than he probably needs to.

“I, uh, probably shouldn’t,” Cas says.

“Dude, this isn’t a test,” Dean tells him, taking a swig himself, and holy crap it’s good.

“I know, but I don’t drink often and now is not the time I want to compromise my facilities,” Cas explains and Sam looks kind of impressed.

“Told you he was weird,” Dean mutters towards Sam, shaking his head. Cas gives him a look that’s equal parts offended and suspicious. “I mean, like, in a cute way.”

Sam raises his eyebrows at that and Dean knows that in his entire life he is never going to live this whole debacle down.

“So, how was the drive?” Sam asks, returning his focus to Cas. “You go through South Dakota or Nebraska?”

They end up talking for a while. They stay on safe topics like the drive and the weather and talk more about spots they like around the neighborhood. Cas seems to enjoy the vigorous debate about where the best burritos are (it’s the place down the street in the back of the Tienda Santa Cruz, not that hipster shithole in Sam’s neighborhood, just for the record). They touch on work and for the first time Sam and Cas start getting animated, discussing schedules and contractor bidding and Dean has to threaten to separate them. Neither of the alphas really let their guard down, which Dean expected, but neither do they rip each other throats out. Their scents settle too and between the two of them, Dean’s certainly feeling pretty happy. When Sam finally says he’s got to get going though, saying he’ll see them at work tomorrow, it’s a relief. Cas lingers in the kitchen as Dean walks Sam to the door.

“So, he’s cool, right?” Dean asks quietly, amazed by how nervous he is.

“Yeah, he seems…not as bad as I thought,” Sam hedges then sighs, shaking his head. “I still think you’re nuts but we’ll talk more tomorrow. He’s allowed to live for tonight.”

“Thanks, Sam, that’s great,” Dean grumbles but pulls his brother in for a long hug anyway. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a day,” Sam grimaces as he pulls away. “Bye, Dean.”

Dean tries not to sulk too much on the idea of tomorrow and how he’s going to be introducing his mate to the whole office. They probably should come up with a story that omits the finer details of the heat fucking and other messy stuff. Maybe the scent bonding will fly – Garth will love it at least. But that’s tomorrow.

“Exploring what a real kitchen is like?” Dean asks when he finds Cas rummaging through his cupboards. The smile the alpha gives him when he turns around is sly and warm and for some reason it makes Dean incredibly happy.

“I was hoping to cook dinner,” Cas says as Dean steps into his space.

“Cas, I’m touched but…you can’t cook,” Dean reminds him.

“I choose not cook at home, that doesn’t mean I lack the skill,” Cas corrects and Dean narrows his eyes.

“I’m sorry but I’m calling bullshit.”

“Really?”

“Yup, won’t believe it until I see it,” Dean says with a grin, and backs Cas up against the deep blue cabinets and granite counter.

“I feel like this is ruse to make sure I cook for you.” Cas’s voice is warm and amused and his scent is happy and inviting.

“Mmm, hot and smart,” Dean hums, rubbing his hands on Cas’s hips.

“Now you’re just sucking up.”

“How else am I supposed to get dessert?”

Cas rolls his eyes before surrendering to Dean kissing him. They make out against the counter for a little while, Cas persistently holding Dean’s hips back from his despite the arousal in his scent. “Can you take me to the store?” Cas asks, cupping Dean’s face in his soft hands.

“Is that a euphemism?” Dean smirks.

“Dinner first,” Cas commands and Dean sighs. He can’t argue with food.

“At least now I get to introduce you to Baby.”

The look on Cas’s face when Dean shows him the Impala is one of the best things Dean’s ever seen. Cas takes his place in the passenger seat with nothing short of reverence and it makes Dean’s chest swell with ridiculous pride. He ends up driving Cas around the neighborhood before they hit the store, where Cas keeps his purchases hidden. He boots Dean from the kitchen, which only makes him a bit nervous, but Dean takes care of some laundry and unpacking while Cas cooks. He’s kind of amazed by how comfortable it is, and really truly amazed when Cas serves him some of the best homemade mac and cheese he’s ever had. After dinner he ends up sprawled on the mattress, over-full and extremely happy.

“Holy crap that was good,” Dean says for probably the seventh time, but Cas still makes an appreciative noise from the bathroom. “You didn’t even bother with vegetables.”

“Pepper and wheat come from plants, those can be vegetables,” Cas says and Dean’s not sure if he’s a bad influence on Cas or if the guy is just that awesome.

“Don’t let Sam hear you talking that way,” Dean mutters as Cas emerges from the bathroom, shirt half undone and looking concerned.

“Well, he has already threatened to kill me once today, so I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Sorry about that,” Dean says, once again repeating himself. “He’ll come around."

"What about the rest of your friends?" Cas asks. "I'm meeting them tomorrow and it sounds like Miss Bradbury especially will feel the need to defend your honor."

"They'll...deal." Dean knows that's a shitty answer but, well, it's late and he's tired and he wants ti say what he need to to get Cas to not look so worried. "Maybe we'll just tell them about the scent bond thing and not really fucking hot heat sex."

"Good plan." Cas still looks deflated but he smells happy.

"So, uh, where’d you learn to cook?” Dean sits up and scoots over at the foot of the bed to make room for Cas.

“Gabriel,” Cas answers with a sort of sad, fond smile. “All those experiments did eventually come to something.”

“Hey, Seattle’s not too far, you think you want to visit him?” It actually seems from Cas’s expression that this is a new idea for him.

“Perhaps, it has been a while.” Cas looks at Dean thoughtfully. “Explaining this…situation to him will be an adventure.”

“Yeah, talking about my sex life with my little brother was bad enough, can’t imagine that big brother would be better,” Dean muses. “Though maybe beta big bro wouldn’t pull all the over-protective crap.”

“Sounds like Sam has some reason to be protective,” Cas says carefully and Dean’s defenses instantly go up. 

“Do you need a shower?” Dean asks, obviously redirecting, but Cas doesn’t call him on it.

“I’m fine I…had a good one this morning,” Cas says and it actually looks like he’s blushing a bit.

“Hell yeah you did,” Dean grins, nuzzling his forehead with his mate’s then kissing him, slow and tempting. Cas responds tentatively, and as Dean pushes closer he notes just the slightest edge of apprehension in his scent. “Hey,” he says, pulling back and regarding Cas curiously. “Are you…nervous?”

Cas fidgets and looks down at his hands, which are primly in his lap. “Perhaps a bit. Things have...shifted since we last were intimate.”

“We don’t have to have sex,” Dean blurts out and he’s kind of amazed by it. “I mean, I really want to 'cause it’s been like, a while.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” Cas argues, more affectionate than annoyed, but still a bit annoyed.

“You haven’t knotted me since Chicago, that’s like half our relationship ago.” Well that gets Cas’s attention.

“We have…a relationship?” the alpha asks, and Dean wonders if there’s a limit to how much of an idiot he can be in one day.

“Well yeah?” Dean answers uneasily and Cas raises a doubtful eyebrow. “I mean you’re a person who I…relate to…so…And you’re my mate so that’s gotta count for something and…shut up okay?”

“I’m quite sure I’d like to have sex now, if that’s alright,” Cas says, releasing Dean from his torment. “Please take off your pants.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Dean grumbles, even as he automatically moves to comply, sliding off his jeans and boxers as Cas pulls off his own clothes. Dean throws his shirt to the hamper before straddling Cas’s lap.

“I did say please,” Cas murmurs before tugging Dean into a kiss.

Dean hums his assent into Cas’s mouth, his train of thought devolving into nothing much beyond ‘mate,’ ‘mouth,’ ‘good,’ and ‘yes.’ Cas lifts and flips Dean so his back is on the bed in an impressive display of strength and it’s possibly the hottest thing ever. Or not. Maybe that’s the sight of Cas prowling up Dean’s body, lavishing open mouthed kisses on his skin and fisting Dean’s hardening cock. Cas’s own dick drags on Dean’s navy blue sheets, and Dean practically vibrates out of his skin with the desire to have it inside him. Cas very much seems to feel the same way, not wasting too much time before his fingers slide from Dean’s hip to the cleft of his ass.

Dean gives a breathy moan as the first of Cas’s fingers breach him. It’s not like he isn’t wet or ready, but Cas seem to want to take extra care. And to suck a vivid mark onto Dean’s collar bone as he stretches him open. Dean has no idea if the mark is in a place that a collar will cover and he kind of hopes it’s not. He doesn’t just want people to smell that he belongs to Cas, he wants them to see it. He has no idea why he wants that. But, fuck the idea has him even harder, dripping precome and practically gusshing slick as Cas fucks into him with three fingers now.

“Need you in me,” Dean pants, barely able to keep his eyes open now as pleasure radiates through him from every point where Cas touches him. The way Cas’s face goes all intent and determined is glorious and Dean grins at his mate for a second before he’s forcibly turned around, stomach to the sheet. Cas plants his knees between Dean’s legs and hauls him up by the hips. Dean feels like a sexy ragdoll in Cas’s hands, if that’s a thing. Probably not a thing. His brain isn’t really working. That’s sort of what he likes about this. About Cas. He likes how when that perfect cock slips into him that everything else fades away. Like is probably not a strong enough word. But, brain function being what it is as Cas rocks into him with a low grown, he’s not looking for a better one.

“You feel so good,” Cas breathes as he drapes himself over Dean, fucking into him slow and precise, hitting Dean’s prostate with each thrust. “Always feel so good.”

“You ain’t bad yourself,” Dean murmurs and it melts into a whine of pleasure as Cas picks up his pace. Dean doesn’t even realize he’s closed his eyes until they snap open at the touch of Cas’s hand on his cock. He jerks Dean in perfect time with his thrusts, reducing Dean to a blissful, panting mess in no time. “God, Cas…fuck…so good… _fuck_ …” Dean babbles as pleasure coils tight in his core while his mate drives harder and faster into his slick hole.

The sounds Cas is making, between kissing and biting at Dean’s shoulder and neck, aren’t words, just rumbles of need and satisfaction. Maybe Dean makes out his names once or twice, and a stray word like ‘want’ or ‘mate.’ It’s fine, Dean’s always talked enough for the both of them. He feels the swell of Cas’s knot stretching him even more open and slams his hand again his wall so hard the picturess shake.

“Shit, Cas, yes, feels so good,” Dean cries out. “Want your knot. Come in me, baby, please. Please…”

“Come for me first, Dean,” Cas’s voice is right in his ear, dark and commanding and _holy shit_. “Come for me, _now_.” There’s no time to think, no time to even breathe before Dean is coming hard, white pouring onto Cas’s hand and the dark comforter. He feels like Cas’s arms tight around him are the only thing keeping him from flying apart. Cas’s knot takes with Dean’s muscles constricting around it and Cas comes with a muffled cry. The warm pulse of Cas’s come inside of him sends another jolt of bliss through Dean and he wonders if he might be able to come multiple time outside of heat. With Cas it totally seems possible. A lot of things he never even believed in seem possible with Cas.

They settle on their sides, knotted together with Dean’s head pillowed on Cas’s arm, the scent of sex and mates hanging like fog in the air. It occurs to Dean that it’s been a really long time since he’s had another person in his bed. It should feel weird, shouldn’t it? He should be freaked because feeling safe and sated, knotted with a _mate_? That was never the plan. Never.

Yet here they are. 

“The guy. The one Sammy put in the hospital.” Dean’s not really sure why he says it. He’s not feeling antsy and he knows that Cas would never push him for the story. But Cas also deserves to be trusted with it. A guy he trusts in his home and his bed deserves everything. “His name was Tyson Brady.”

“Dean…” He feels Cas tense behind him, maybe trying to get a better look at Dean. But Dean likes that Cas can’t see his face right now. It’s the only way he can keep going.

“He was a friend of Sam’s, when we were both in school at the same time,” Dean goes on, flat and clinical. “I ended up at a party, coming right off a heat, like an idiot. Couldn’t afford suppressants back then. And I drank a lot, also like an idiot. Guy was cute, I’d met him before, we flirted some and…I dunno if he slipped something in my drink or what but…”

Cas’s arms around Dean tighten, consoling, though there’s an edge of anger in his scent. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Dean doesn’t argue on that point. “Sam came looking for me, caught him before he could really do too much. Beat the ever loving shit out of him and nearly got expelled for it. He’s lucky he didn’t get arrested but I said I wouldn’t press charges on Brady if he’d do the same for Sam, so...yeah.”

“He’s still out there?” There’s a dangerous edge to Cas’s voice that sort of endearing, in a weird way.

“A few people made it really clear to him that he needed to find a new town,” Dean reassures him. “Though that’s just what Bobby told me. Wouldn’t put it past the old man to take him out, but…I think he would have told me if that was the case.”

“The law is too kind to alphas in those…situations, anyway,” Cas says, acid in his tone.

“He was a beta actually,” Dean almost laughs at that. “Thought he _should_ be an alpha. You know the type.”

“Unfortunately yes.”

“Just goes to show you, everything they put on us about what we are or what we’re supposed to be…it’s just bullshit,” Dean says, he sounds more bitter than he feels. Mostly he’s just tired.

“People are…confusing,” Cas remarks sounding just as tired.

“At least that means they can surprise you sometimes,” Dean offers, trying to find a better topic. He wants to go back to the post-sex happy. Not the soul bearing that being in the dark with Cas seems to inspire. “You sure ain't a ‘typical alpha,’ whatever the fuck that means. I’d say you’re not like any alpha I’ve ever met but, hell, you’re not like _anyone_ I’ve ever met.”

“I could say the same of you.” The tenderness (and maybe…admiration?) in Cas’s voice makes Dean want to hide more.

“I’m nothing special,” Dean mutters into Cas’s arm.

“You are.” Dean shouldn’t be surprised that Cas says something like that, really. The guy has been way too kind to Dean since this whole mess started. But it still sort of takes Dean’s breath away. “You’ve done amazing things.”

“I just got lucky, all around, much luckier than I deserve. Found people like Bobby and Charlie. I’ve got Sammy for a brother.” Dean smiles, the way he always does when he thinks of how stupidly fortunate he’s been with the good people in his life. Up to and including the one holding him. “I even ended up with a mate on accident and it turned out to be you. Pretty fucking lucky.”

“Luck may be how you find people, but it’s not what makes them stay.” Cas’s voice is soft, careful, like he thinks it’s something he shouldn’t say. It isn’t something he should say, because they just decided to give this thing - fine, Dean will call it a relationship – a try half a day ago. Sure, Cas could be talking about Bobby or Charlie, hell, even Sam since the kid could have and maybe should have ditched Dean’s weight years ago. But Dean knows that’s not all of it. For Cas there’s nothing in the world more miraculous than someone choosing to stay and so he knows that when Cas says shit like that, it means something. Dean just can't say what.

“I’m still glad you’re you,” Dean says. It’s honest and incredibly lame, but it’s all he’s got right now.

“Likewise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got an outline done for the final few chapters, friends so...good things are coming. And a little bit more angst. But mostly good things.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh. Parts of this were like pulling teeth, but it's done and extra long, and here for your humble consideration. I've updated the fic tags as well to reflect some of the events too.

There’s nothing quite as good as waking up in your own bed after a good night’s sleep. Well, maybe one thing could make it better, Dean thinks as he snuggles deeper into the flannel sheets, and that would be if his mate were still in bed with him. As it is, the quiet buzz of an alarm had edged him into consciousness and then Cas getting out of bed and taking his warmth with him had pushed him further.

“Where’re ya goin’?” Dean grunts from the pillow. It’s barely dawn and the autumn chill is already creeping into the space where Cas had been.

“Going for a run, I haven’t been in a while,” Cas says, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s hair, which is enough to keep Dean from going into a rant about how the only good reason to run is when something is chasing you.

Dean lazes in bed, half-awake for a few more minutes, burrowing into the sheets and reveling at the comfort of being home and the way Cas’s scent makes it feel even safer and protected and right. Eventually though he decides it’s time to fully wake up, because his alarm is going to go off soon any way. He showers and goes about his morning like usual, except now he smiles when he sees Cas’s tooth brush by the sink and tells himself he’s not taking his suppressants because he doesn’t remember if he unpacked them.

By the time Cas comes in the back door, sweaty and brightfaced, Dean is dressed and pulling eggs out of the fridge while bacon sizzles on the stove. It’s a normal grey Portland day outside but smile Cas gives him makes it sorta seem like the sun just came out.

“You made breakfast?”

“Figured I had to counter all that healthy with some bacon,” Dean replies and Cas shakes his head in amusement. “Go shower, grubs up in ten. How do you like your eggs by the way?”

“Sunnyside up.”

“Knew you had some sense,” Dean grins.

Breakfast is a pretty leisurely affair, which seems to throw Cas off. The alpha fusses over coffee but Dean shoos him to sit while he serves. Dean only teases him twice about the fact this isn’t a power bar. Most of his ribbing is spent on Cas’s clothes – one of the few suits Dean didn’t manage to come on back in Chicago. It’s a stark contrast to the jeans, henley and plaid Dean has on. Cas offers to change, getting a bit bashful, and Dean makes up for being a jackass by pulling him in by the tie and kissing him. They kiss enough that it becomes a real danger that they’re going to ruin this suit too, so they force themselves to break apart. Cas doesn’t argue at all with Dean driving, but Dean can smell his mate’s nervousness increasing as they get closer to the office.

“It’s going to be fine,” Dean reassures Cas again as the pull up into the tiny parking lot on their block that Dean pays an exorbitant amount to use for Baby.

“Your brother threatened me bodily harm yesterday,” Cas reminds him, glancing nervously out the window and not moving to leave the car. “Your co-workers know I’m coming to work on the project but they’re going to know I’m your mate immediately and that’s not going to sit well.”

“It’ll sit however I tell them to sit it.”

“That sentence made no sense,” Cas says, looking too put upon and weary for this early in the morning.

“As long as we stick to the whole scent bonding side of things and don’t get into gory details, we should be fine with Kevin, Victor and Garth.”

“And Miss Bradbury?”

“I…will handle her.” Dean knows he’s not convincing, but Cas nods anyway and finally gets out of the car.

The office of Winchester Brothers is in Northwest Portland, tucked away in old Victorian home. It looks particularly nice today among the yellow autumn leaves filling the trees and lining the sidewalk. And Cas in his trench and messy hair looks sort of perfect in front of it.

“Bobby bought this place when it was just about ready to be condemned,” Dean explains. “You should have seen it. Just looking at it was a health hazard. But that’s how Bobby got it cheap and he rented it out as offices for a while before we took over.”

“It’s lovely,” Cas says and usually Dean would object to anything he touched being associated with that term, but…Cas is kinda right. The cream paint, the little spires, the intricate woodwork; it is lovely.

Dean’s still hung up on that and the nice bubble of pride growing in his chest when they enter and the grassy smell of a pissed off omega hits him. Charlie is waiting in the front hall with murder on her face. Cas gulps and sticks out his hand while Dean panics.

“Hello, Miss Bradbury, it’s very nice to finally-”

Charlie barrels right past Cas’s outstretched hand and punches Dean in the arm. “You. Idiot.”

“Okay, ow,” Dean says, though Charlie is not a big person her knuckles are still fucking sharp. “Good to see you too.”

Charlie punches Dean again, though with less force this time. “You are so lucky to just ended up in this mess. You could have gotten hurt, or fired, or worse…”

“Expelled?”

“Do not think a Hermione ref is gonna get you off the hook, mister!”

“Charlie, I’m fine and Cas is-”

Charlie rounds on Cas and the alpha’s eyes go wide before Charlie delivers a punch to _his_ bicep. “What the hell, man!” Charlie demands as Cas winces and shrinks. “Do you make a habit of going around and screwing your employees when they can’t-”

“Charlie!” Dean rarely uses so dangerous a tone with anyone he considers a friend, but that was too far. Charlie turns to him, looking cowed and pale with apprehension rising in her scent. “Cas is cool. He and I are cool. And we’re giving this thing a chance, so please, save the righteous anger for the next _X-Men_ reboot.”

Charlie stares at Dean, assessing and annoyed, then sighs and turns back to Cas to offer her hand. “It’s nice to meet you in person too, Mr. Novak.”

“You can call me Castiel,” Cas says, unsteadily shaking her hand, his scent heavy with nerves and even a hint of panic. “Or…or Cas. If you like.”

“Sure,” Charlie says then tugs Cas towards her so they’re at eye level. “I can erase your entire identify from all the information systems in the world and Bobby has a shotgun and a lot of digging equipment. Are we clear?”

“ _Charlie_!” Dean nearly roars and the redhead jumps back. “Can I get through one introduction without a threat of murder? Jesus.”

“Who are we murdering?” Kevin has emerged from the kitchen with a mug of coffee and raises his eyebrows when he sees Cas. The alpha looks like he’s barely recovered from Charlie and gives Kevin a weak nod.

“Me, apparently,” Cas sighs then offers his hand anyway. “You must be Kevin Tran. Castiel Novak.”

Kevin’s handshake with Cas is perfunctory and limp as he’s too busy staring between Dean and Cas. Kevin’s a beta, so the change in Dean’s scent shouldn’t be as evident to him, but it’s apparently enough to have him suspicious.

“Why do you smell different? Wait…Did you two…are you…?”

“Yes, mated,” Dean answers. “A lot happened in Chicago and we can explain-”

“Victor! Get down here!” Kevin yells, ignoring Dean. They learned very early in working in the house that there was no need for an intercom with vents like these. Everyone can hears and smell everyone else. Cas visibly retreats closer to Dean as Victor thunders down the stairs to join the group.

“This better be good, squirt,” Victor grumbles. “Hey Dean how was your – holy shit.”

“Victor, Cas. Cas, Victor,” Dean mutters as Victor takes his turn to stare. Maybe there was something to what Cas said about their physical intimacy making the mating bond stronger because everyone seems to be able to smell it.

“It’s a pleasure to-” Cas starts but Victor cuts him off with a guffaw.

“Dean Winchester, who hates all emotion and attachment, got mated to the guy he’s been complaining about for two months?” Victor almost howls. “How the hell did that happen?  Did anyone check him for brain damage?”

“We’re looking into it,” Charlie says under her breath and Dean shoots her a glare.

Cas is looking more and more uncomfortable and Dean wants nothing more than to pull him into his office and apologize.

“Are Garth and Sam in yet?” Dean asks instead.

“No sign of Sam yet,” Kevin answers. “Garth’s around.”

“Did I hear my name…oh my goodness!” Garth emerges from the back of the house with an even goofier grin than usual on his face. “I never thought I’d see the day!” Before Dean can warn him, Garth envelops Cas in hug. “Welcome to the family, buddy!”

“Garth, let the man breathe,” Dean orders. Garth releases a shaken looking Cas and heads towards Dean, arms outstretched. “Uh uh. No. Not happening.” The lanky omega traps Dean in a hug anyway. It’s actually nicer than being punched or looked at like he’s gone insane so Dean accepts it.

“Is anyone gonna brief us on how this happened?” Victor asks impatiently and Dean gulps.

“Uh, it was one of those scent bond things,” Dean tries and he’s glad Sam’s not here to scoff. “Kinda…went from there.”

“Well ain’t that romantic,” Garth grins. Victor and Kevin clearly think there’s more to the story. They know well enough that a mating takes more than just a scent bond, but don’t say anything.

“No, it’s not-” Dean doesn’t know why he feels the need to argue. “I mean, maybe it was but…It’s all been kinda fast.”

“Yes it has,” Charlie mutters and Dean’s had it.

“Okay, look,” Dean growls and the whole group, even Cas snaps to attention. “I know this is weird, and out of the blue and all sorts of not normal, but it’s happened. Cas is my mate and someone we’re going to be working with and you will _all_ –” he sends a pointed look towards Charlie, “Be cool with it and not give him any shit. Is that clear?”

“Can we still give you shit?” Victor asks without missing a beat.

“Only if you’re ready to get your ass kicked,” Dean shoots back. Victor laughs and claps him on the back. The rest of the group nods like children caught misbehaving, while Cas stares at him with a gentle, warm expression that Dean hopes no one else sees because of the ribbing he’ll get for it.

“Well, I can say that any mate of Dean is welcome here,” Garth says warmly and that gets a stiff nod from Cas.

“Thanks, Garth,” Dean says. “Kev, can you help Cas get set up in the empty office upstairs?”

“Uh, sure,” Kevin agrees. “This way.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Dean says to Cas. The alpha looks a bit uneasy as he follows Kevin upstairs but doesn’t complain. Garth and Victor retreat as well which gives Dean time to grab Charlie by the elbow and haul her into his office.

“Hey, ow!” Charlie whines.

“Says the chick that started the day with a punching party,” Dean says as he closes the door behind them. “What the fuck, Charlie? You had no right to treat Cas like that.”

“Dean, last I knew you two weren’t gonna mess around anymore so you could _get out of this_ and then you come in stinking like sex and calling him your mate and saying you’re going for it like this is _normal_.” Charlie plants her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “So I assume one of you, or probably both, are either being idiots or pressuring the other into weird mate sex or…”

“What?” Dean balks. “You think Cas is forcing me into shit?”

“How long have I known you?”

“Uh, like four, five years?” Dean thinks back to the fond memory of Charlie all but assaulting him with kindness and omega solidarity at the coffee shop on campus. He doesn’t see why she’s bringing it up though.

“And I’ve seen you go through a lot of crap. I’ve seen your pathetic attempts at relationships and hook up and the bullshit with Brady. I’ve seen you off suppressants and on.” Charlie leans in and sniffs and shakes her head in dismay. “Which you’ve stopped taking, obviously.”

“Charlie, is there a point here?”

“I’m just saying that I know you, and _this_ is not the Dean Winchester I know,” Charlie says. “My Dean fights for himself. He never lets anyone tell him what he is or should be. And that idea that you fell into bed with some alpha and now you’re just…shacking up with him? That’s insane.”

“Cas is not just ‘some alpha,’” Dean snaps, offended on both their behalves. “He's is a good guy and he’s down with this.”

Charlie’s eyes go comically wide. “Oh man, the hormone poisoning has got you both so bad.”

“ _Both_? What’s wrong with Cas?”

“Come on, you think this is in character for him?” Charlie scoffs.

Before Dean can ask what that means, there’s a warning knock on the door and a familiar arid scent in the air. “Let him in and go see if Cas needs any help with him computer shit,” Dean orders and Charlie complies, scowling as she passes Sam in the doorway. “And be nice! Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey, sorry I wasn’t here for the intros, sounds like it went great,” Sam says, handing Dean one of the two cups he’s holding.

“Oh, just peachy,” Dean grouses and takes a swig. “Everyone things I’m insane and that Cas is some kind of asshole, sex monster or something and – what the fuck am I drinking?”

“It’s pumpkin spice! It tastes like pie. I thought you’d like it.”

“How many times do we need to go over this? Coffee should taste like _coffee_.” Dean shakes his head and takes another sip anyway. It’s saccharine and chemical tasting.

“How’s everything else going?” he asks and manages to make that sound suspicious and exasperated too.

“Uh, good,” Dean replies. “Last night was cool. Turns out Cas can cook. Who knew? Oh, and you’ll love this – he’s a runner. He gets up at ass o’clock and runs.”

“And you didn’t know that?”

Dean expected Sam to launch into the regular ‘running is good for you’ BS, instead Dean has apparently fucked up again. “No, we’re still in that getting to know you phase seeing as we’ve only been doing this for like a week.”

“Six days.”

“You’re counting?”

“Yeah, Dean, I am, and you should be too,” Sam leans over Dean’s desk, looming and very clearly done with Dean’s bull shit. And here Dean thought Sam was coming over to his side. Not that he really knows what side he’s on or why. “You’re making a huge decision about the rest of your life without any information.”

“Jesus, we’re not talking about the rest of our lives just…” Dean swallows because he had been resolutely pretending that nothing beyond the next few weeks or months existed or mattered. “And I have information, shut up.”

“Does he want kids?”

“What?” Dean feels his liver and several other organs turn into lumps of led.

“Are you going to combine finances? Does he want you to move or are you staying here?” Sam pushes on, so reasonable that Dean wants to punch him. “How does he feel about end of life care?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam! I don’t know and neither does anyone because that’s fucking creepy!” Dean doesn’t want to be yelling but he’s sort of yelling. “So I don’t know his favorite flavor of ice cream. People get mated faster than this all the time!”

“And it goes to shit!” Sam exclaims and Dean opens his mouth to argue some more. “Do you want to end up like Benny?”

Dean’s mouth snaps closed and he scowls. Benny’s one of the only people he knew that claimed scent bonding was real. He’d been in heaven for a few months until his mate had dumped him for some douchecanoe with a yacht. “Low fucking blow, Sam. And Cas isn’t like Andrea…he wouldn’t…”

“You don’t know that,” Sam pushes back. “He could pack up and leave and then what are you gonna do?”

“I thought you liked him!” Dean’s gonna focus on being offended on Cas’s behalf and not on the fucking terrifying prospect of him ditching his ass. He can still feel the panic rising.

“I think he’s a good guy, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I think he’s good for you,” Sam says and Dean is just confused because Cas _is_ good for him. Isn’t he? Or maybe Sam is saying Dean’s not good enough for Cas?

“Are you sure you and Charlie aren’t coordinating or something?” Dean growls.

“No, but I’m sure Charlie’s made valid points. We care about you, Dean, and we don’t want to see your life get fucked because your brain chemistry is temporarily messed up.” Sam’s face is earnest and Dean can’t stand to look at it.

“Right, cause this is just…biology,” Dean mutters, his mind swimming with doubt. “No way someone like Cas could actually like me, is that it?”

“I dunno, Dean, you don’t seem like his type,” Sam says tiredly. “But the fact you even are asking that? Come on. Look at how far gone you are. You’re not the kind of guy that lets anyone or anything decide who you are or what you’re going to be. Wouldn’t you rather be with someone you chose instead of a stranger your body just happens to respond to?”

“You seem to be making this a question of free will,” a serious deep voice asks.

Sam spins and reveals Cas standing solemnly in the door of Dean’s office. “Dang. How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” Cas says, looking at Dean with a seriously pained expression. “Sam, you’re right in assuming this is not something either of us planned on. And it should be our choice.”

Dean’s heart starts racing because, fuck, this is it. This is that hotel in Nebraska again and Cas is going to tell him it’s over. He heard Sam and Charlie and he knows they’re right and it’s over.

“Cas…”

“In that vein, there are some misconceptions that I need to clear up.” Before Dean can ask what _that_ means Cas turns on his heel and disappears. A second later Dean hears the sound of the front door closing and his panic skyrockets.

“Great job, Sam!” Dean snaps.

“Dudes, what's going on?” It’s Charlie, peeking in the door and looking sheepish.

“Sam scared off Cas!” Dean says. And then his phone starts vibrating to alert him his has a video call. Dean pulls his phone out, fully prepared to give some poor schmo the chewing out of a life time, until he sees the caller ID. “Cas?”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says as his face appears on the tiny screen. He’s very obviously standing outside on the sidewalk.

“Cas, what the hell? Why are you outside?” Dean asks, a bit frantic as Sam and Charlie stare at him.

“I didn’t want the distraction of our scents or any biology tainting the content of this conversation,” Cas answers.

Dean looks over at Sam and Charlie, who looks just about as confused as he is. “Okay, I know that you’re probably having second thoughts or whatever cause my family are being jerks, and I can’t blame you if you think that I’m not what you-”

“Dean. Stop talking.” The order is delivered with iron firmness and Dean’s mouth snaps closed immediately. “I would like to go on a date with you.”

Dean watches small the image of his own confused face in the top corner of the screen blink in confusion. Cas takes a deep breath, obviously relieved to get that out.

“I apologize for the dramatics but I have been _trying_ to ask you out for a week,” Cas goes on and Dean furrows his brow.

“Can I talk now?”

“Yes.”

“We haven’t known each other for a week,” Dean says, sending a glare toward Sam as a thank you for _that_ reminder.

“That’s my point, Dean. I wanted to ask you out before we met in person.”

Dean’s pretty proud he doesn’t drop the phone in shock. Sam and Charlie look equally thunderstruck. “You…you liked me _before_?” It makes even less sense to say it aloud.

“More than was probably appropriate,” Cas answers. “I was stern because I didn’t want any accusations of showing favoritism before the project was approved but this,” Cas gestures at the screen, “And your work is how I came to know you. That was my choice. And I wanted to know you more.”

“And now that you do, you still like me?” Dean’s fully aware he’s one emoji shy of turning into a teenager right now but he doesn’t care because this is big. This is fucking huge.

“Even more now,” Cas says steadily. Even through the screen his eyes carry emotion that Dean’s amazed and terrified by.

“Why?” Maybe it’s Sam and Charlie’s words still sticking in his head but Dean cannot comprehend that Cas would want him even without the biology that’s tied them together.

“Far too many reasons to list right now,” Cas says, looking bashful in a way that makes Dean smile, involuntarily. “Perhaps I can go over them at dinner.”

“Uh, yeah that sounds great,” Dean stammers.

“And we should wear blockers, to minimize any chemical interference from the interaction.”

Dean glances at Sam, who makes that weird ‘fair enough’ face that makes him look like a trout. “Sure, Cas, whatever you say.”

“It’s a date then,” Cas says with a sort of goofy smile that Dean really likes seeing. “I’m going to come back in now. I have a great deal of work to catch up on.”

“Okay.” The phone screen goes black and a few seconds later Dean hears the front door open and shut, then the sound of Cas ascending the stairs. He looks up at Charlie and Sam and can’t help but give the smuggest smirk he’s capable of. “You were saying?”

“Come on, Charlie, he’s hopeless,” Sam sighs, shaking his head. Charlie nods and the two leave Dean in blessed solitude.

Of course that just gives him time to think. Cas likes him, like, as a human. That’s amazing and sort of incomprehensible. And an hour ago Dean would have been even more excited because he likes Cas too. He really does and he’s not denying that. But now, thanks to his brother and best friend looking out for him, he’s not so sure what that even means. He still has no idea how much of this is his body telling his brain what to do. And Sam’s right, not that Dean would admit it, but letting fate decide what he’s supposed to want has never been his thing. Maybe tonight will help him figure it out, but first he has to get through today.

Good thing he has a mountain of work to catch up on. There’s about a thousand emails waiting for him, a few clients whose work had been pushed aside while they were working so hard on Blackberry Ridge and Sam wants him to give a final okay on the payroll and expense statements because his brother just wants him to suffer in general. But it’s a great excuse for him to do what he does best and shut down his emotions with work.

It sort of works. He gets shit done and manages to only get distracted a few times by the idea that Cas is in the office, just a floor above. Cas who likes Dean; who would actually chose to associate with Dean even if they hadn’t mated. (What the fuck?) He hears more people than usual going upstairs and chatting, which means everyone is probably getting to know Cas, or snooping on him. No one bothers to spy on him, which is kinda nice and also kinda weird. Maybe they’re giving him space for fear of getting their asses kicked. Before he knows it the clock says it’s past noon and his stomach is rumbling. He checks the hall before escaping his office and heading upstairs to where Cas has been set up. The alpha is clicking away at his computer with grim determination on his face that melts the second he catches Dean’s scent.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says with a gentle smile.

Dean temporarily forgets what it was he came up here for, captivated by that smile and blue eyes that sparkle in the cloudy sunlight coming through the round window. Of course his stomach reminds him with a pang. He has no idea if it’s allowed, seeing as he’s supposed to be going on a date with Cas for dinner, but whatever. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Cas nods.

“Are we getting lunch?” Dean jumps at the sound of Kevin’s voice from his elbow.

“Uh, yeah, I was-”

“Hey, Victor, we’re taking Cas out for lunch!” the young beta yells.

“Did someone say lunch?” Charlie’s voice calls from downstairs.

“I guess it’s a group thing,” Dean sighs, giving Cas an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Social interaction with your coworkers is normal and expected,” Cas states as he stands and grabs his trench. “We’ll have time for one on one conversation tonight.”

“Great,” Dean murmurs. They head downstairs with Kevin and Victor in tow and Charlie is already waiting by the front door when they get there, Sam and Garth beside her.

 “So, where we goin’?” Garth asks jovially.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Dean sighs. “Lucky for us all the places around here have big tables.”

“Yeah, right. You know exactly where we’re going,” Sam says

Dean fidgets a bit as Cas looks at him and raises an eyebrow. Sam and Charlie both look like they’re just waiting to be proven right and damn it Dean knows he’s going to do it. “Okay we’re going to Pacific Pie.”

“Pie for lunch?” Cas asks.

“Sorta.”

[Pacific Pie](http://www.pacificpie.com/) makes sweet and savory pie-type foods of all sorts and since it opened and Dean’s been maybe a little obsessed with it, because an entire restaurant devoted to pie is beyond awesome. They all end up at a big long table and it’s not too awkward as the gang gets to know Cas a bit and fills Dean in on the few bits of excitement they’ve had while he’s been gone. Cas seems generally befuddled that people are asking him questions at all and takes each answer very seriously. Dean tries not to notice Sam and Charlie giving him looks when he explains stuff to Cas. It’s mostly normal small talk, and no one seems to want to ask about the messy details of how the two of them got together so that’s good. Garth ends up talking about a children’s puppet show he wants to create and Cas acts far more interested in that than he has to.

“So, what do you think of the office?” Kevin asks as they wait for their checks to come. The food was amazing and Dean already wants more.

“Must be pretty different than what you’re used to,” Victor adds.

“It is, and I like it very much. It’s much…warmer than DXM,” Cas answers carefully.

“Like the temperature?” Garth asks.

“No, I mean the atmosphere,” Cas replies and glances at Dean. “You seem to care very much for each other and what you do. It’s quite different from what I’m used to.”

“Yeah, not a lot of camaraderie in the corporate machine,” Dean agrees, thinking back to the steel and glass and sterile order of DXM’s offices.

“It’s more than that,” Cas says thoughtfully and now his eyes are very much locked on Dean’s. “You all seem to put a great deal of…love into everything you do and make. And it shows in the work product as much as it does in how you work together.”

“Dude, you’ve only been here for like four hours,” Kevin mutters but Dean ignores him in favor of staring at Cas, because maybe the others don’t know but that’s one of the greatest things Dean’s ever heard him say.

“So, you do like our stuff?” Sam asks, as disbelieving as Dean was the first time Cas complimented him.

“Of course, I spent a month pestering my superiors to look at your portfolio before we engaged Winchester Brothers,” Cas says and Dean raises an eyebrow. Cas looks at Dean rather meaningfully. “Anyone would be lucky to live their life in a home you made.”

Dean does not blush at that. For fuck’s sake he’s a grown man. But he can’t be blamed for his cheeks maybe getting a little warm when his mate says something like that in public.

“Wow. Glad you’re our guy then,” Sam says, surprising Dean.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean adds.

They pay and head back the few blocks to the office. The rest of the gang disperses except for Cas, and Dean can’t help but give him his best, flirty grin when they’re alone. “So what time are you picking me up?”

“You do recall that you drove us here?”

“Hey, you’re the one that asked me out.  Do you even know where we’re going?” Dean teases and Cas gives him an exasperated glare.

“Kevin mentioned that there’s a nice Thai place…”

“That works. Or, I dunno, burgers or something. I’m not a fancy guy.” Dean tries to remember that Cas probably knows this, and probably won’t be turned off my Dean’s lack of pretention at this point. There’s all sorts of other stuff to be turned off by.

“I’ll find something,” Cas says. “We can go from here. I have some blockers in my bag.”

“Of course you do.” Dean shakes his head. He wants to tell Cas that he really doesn’t have to do this, but he also know that he kinda does. Lunch with everyone was great but he kept catching Cas’s scent all through and he’d wanted nothing more than to bury his face in his mate’s neck and luxuriate in him for a few hours. Preferably naked.

“Stop thinking about sex,” Cas orders, snapping Dean out of his haze.

“Stop doing the mind reading thing, it’s creepy,” Dean shoots back. “And I’ve got some blockers in my desk drawer,” he adds grudgingly.

“I’ll see you after end of business then, Mr. Winchester,” Cas says with an smirk and Dean’s stomach does a little swoop.

He’s not sure how he makes it into his office or how he manages to get work done, but somehow it happens. He even manages to get work done, for a while. But he’s not sure what time it when he smells fresh grass and hears the sound of a throat clearing.

“I’m not really in the mood for another lecture,” Dean sighs and Charlie grimaces.

“Good thing I’m here to apologize then.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, for being an asshole,” Charlie says, stepping fully into the office and closing the door. “Cas is actually really nice. Weird. But nice.”

“Yeah, he is,” Dean says, a bit thrown.

“And he is really, obviously in into you. Though if he was into you before meeting you in person, I don’t know about his judgment.” Charlie grins as Dean sends her a playful scowl. “Now you just need to figure out if _you_ like him without all the mate stuff clouding your judgment.”

“Yeah. Easy," Dean mutters and all the doubt and panic he’s pushed away and ignored since Chicago hits him likes a tidal wave.

“Dean, are you okay?”

He’s not. 

What if this is all in his…well not his head, but his hormones? What if Cas thought he liked him but got to know him and really doesn’t? Sure, Cas was okay with staying mated or trying that, but Dean has to admit he was kinda pig-headed on that and it’s not like they discussed in any way what that actually _meant_ beyond sticking together for…a while? A few months while Cas oversees the project? A year until someone gets bored or fed up with some one? Who fucking knows. And now, despite everything, Dean’s not even sure of what he’s feeling or wanting or why all of this (mostly the losing Cas parts) freaks him out!

“How the fuck do I know?” Dean asks, looking up to where Charlie is still staring at him. “I mean, I know some of what I feel for Cas is the mating thing, but real feelings, those are just chemicals and electrons too, right? What the fuck even is real?”

Charlie looks at him hopelessly, sighing. “Dude, I do not know. I read about this stuff and see movies, but I’ve never been in love or-”

“Hey, hey, hey! No one said anything about the L word!” Dean exclaims, his pulse suddenly racing. Charlie looks at him like lobsters are coming out of his ears. “We’re talking about a date. Which, I’ve, uh, never technically done. So that’s scary. And the mating...thing. But we’re not…this isn’t…”

“Oh my god you’re so screwed,” Charlie says with the utmost lack of sympathy and claps Dean on the shoulders. “Pay for the food. Tell him he looks pretty. Ask about his career. And comb your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“You’re gonna do great,” Charlie says and then just heads out, like she didn’t leave Dean more fucked up than she found him.

Dean does comb his hair, and also slathers on the blockers (roll on and spray because he’s not fucking this up) while he tries not to stew in his various crises as he waits for Cas to finish up. He even sends a quick text that he’s ready whenever Cas is and gets a thumbs up emoji back.

At exactly five fifteen, after Sam has departed and wished him good luck, Cas knocks on Dean’s doorframe. And he does have to knock because Dean doesn’t smell him coming. Dean still smiles to see him, and his stomach still does that weird jumping thing. Dean files that information away and grabs his stuff. Maybe Charlie got to Cas because his hair is combed too. And his tie is actually on straight.

“So where we going?” Dean asks. Coming closer he still can’t smell Cas, but being near him still gets him tingling a bit. He’s not sure if it’s his body or subconscious getting excited to be close to his mate again after a day apart or what.

“I found a place within walking distance that has the word ‘whiskey’ in the name. I hope that will be acceptable.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drop their bags in the Impala’s trunk and walk in comfortable silence to the restaurant, a [southern style place](http://southlandportland.com/) that does indeed specialize in whiskey _and_ barbecue. It’s not awkward at all until they’re sitting across from each other and Dean has no idea what to say. Cas is just staring at him, like he’s waiting on Dean to be funny or brilliant or give some sign that he has any idea what he’s doing.

“This is my first date,” Dean blurts out.

“Well, you could define some of our other outings as dates,” Cas replies and Dean shakes his head immediately.

“No, I mean I don’t – I haven’t, uh, dated. Normal people. Other! People.” Dean wants to flag down the waitress and get some of that fucking whiskey already. “At all.”

“Oh. Well. I haven’t had a first date in a while,” Cas says haltingly. "If that makes you feel better."

“What do I do?” Dean asks and thankfully Cas just smiles.

“Just, talk.” Well it sounds easy when Cas puts it that way. 

Dean nods. Wracking his brain for something appropriate. “Do you want kids?” And failing.

“Excuse me?” Cas blinks and at least Dean knows the blockers are working cause he can’t smell the panic.

“Sorry, that was…uh, something Sam mentioned. You don’t have to answer,” Dean tries to salvage. “I mean I want to know but…shit.”

“I guess I haven’t thought of it,” Cas answers and Dean shuts up. “Well, I have, but in the same way I thought about mates.”

“Like that was something that happened to other people, right?” Dean offers and Cas nods in agreement.

“In that sense I’m…open to the idea.” Cas sounds like he’s testing the waters and Dean feels a modicum of his fear fade.

“Same. Like, it could maybe be…cool.” Dean actually lets himself imagine it, just for a second. Not just a future but a family. And it’s not bad, amazingly. But it’s also terrifying. “In like a thousand years.”

“Of course.”

The waitress finally chooses that moment to appear and Dean is on the cusp of ordering a double when Cas asks for their house brewed root beer instead. “Uh, two of those,” Dean finds himself saying and Cas looks at him curiously as the waitress retreats.

“I thought you might get a drink.”

“Well, I gotta drive us home,” Dean says too quickly and Cas gives him another look. “Actually I don’t want you to think I drink too much. Or know that I do. Cause it’s sometimes a thing. That people have mentioned and I’m not like a drunk but I’ve been, well, I should maybe moderate more. Which I can do. I haven’t had a hard drink for a week and it’s been great. Not that I haven’t gone longer than a week. Like really in the last few years with the suppressants and getting our shit together getting drunk and hooking up at bars or shit is much less a thing and _oh my god why are you letting me keep talking_.”

Cas’s horrifid expression melts into amusement. “Your forthrightness is refreshing actually.”

“Shut up, I’m always forthright,” Dean scowls. “I just don’t do feelings talk.”

“Are we talking about feelings now?”

Dean can’t tell if Cas is being a sarcastic asshole or if he’s genuinely confused. “Do you…want to?” he asks. Maybe this is some sort of a test.

“Dean, you seem to be nervous,” Cas states.

“Well, yeah, first date jitters or whatever.” Cas gives an earnest, seeing through the bull shit look. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“I don’t think you could,” Cas says, quietly. “There’s no need to impress me. Tonight’s for you. To see if you enjoy interacting with me without a biological imperative driving your actions. And so you know that driving me away…won’t happen. In case I haven’t made that clear.”

“Well, if that little monologue didn’t have you running for the hills, I’m not sure anything will.” Dean means it to be funny and sarcastic, but Cas just smiles. Dean doesn’t want to lose that smile.

“Can I take your order, boys?” The waitress, who somehow appeared, asks, setting down their drinks.

“Uh, pulled pork sandwich,” Dean says.

“Shrimp salad, please.” The waitress smiles and disappears and Cas looks back with more tolerance and kindness is his face than Dean will ever deserve.

“So what else do people talk about on dates?” Dean asks. “Charlie said some shit about careers.”

“Well, I know yours and mine is boring.”

Dean leans in. This might actually go somewhere. “Well, are you doing what you want to do?”

“I’m good at it.” Cas shrugs, which isn’t something he does often and just makes Dean more suspicious.

“But?”

“But I’ve been thinking, recently, about what might make me feel more…fulfilled.”

“Any specific reason for that?” Dean asks with a grin and Cas shakes his head in consternation. “Come on. Tell me what you want in a job.”

Cas wants freedom, it turns out. He does well in the corporate structure but it stifles him and, Dean guesses aloud and is proven right, he just got into it because his parents did it first and now they don’t care. Cas’s dad is apparently in Florida writing the great American novel or something and mom is working who knows where. That ends up getting Dean talking about his parents too and how they met on the job actually, both private investigators that ended up on the same case. They ditched that when they had kids and Dad took up as a mechanic. Then after mom had passed Dad had taken odd jobs in it again and that’s why they’d ended up getting dragged around the country.

They talk about the food and the city and if maybe Cas would want to do what his dad did and get into arts or something (very much a no) but Dean thinks Cas could certainly be artistic if her tried. He definitely has an eye for interesting things.

They talk about movies and the summer and how they both love fall. Dean warns him about the unrelenting gray of winters in Portland and shares horror stories of how the city shuts down when it gets an inch of snow. Cas's favorite ice cream is mint chip.

It’s fun and easy, and when they finish and leave Dean takes Cas’s hand without a second thought. Cas smiles at Dean and again his stomach does that jumping thing and maybe it’s time for Dean to think about that. He still can’t smell Cas but he sure as hell still wants to kiss him. It rained while they were inside and the fall leaves and fresh scent smells a bit like them but not the same at all.

He regards the man walking beside him, remembering the first time he saw that face.  “I thought you were hot.” Cas raises an eyebrow and Dean realizes that came out aloud. “When you first came on screen, I thought you were hot. And I liked your voice. Still do. Your face too. And the rest of you.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“But then you were an asshole,” Dean goes on and Cas looks guiltily at his feet. “Or I thought you were. Maybe some of my issues were getting in the way there.”

“I still apologize,” Cas mutters and Dean squeezes his hand.

“But then, uh, shit happened, you know but, I got to know you as a person,” Dean goes on. “Not a scent or a face or a…other part. Just you.”

“And?” It’s incredible how Cas can make of word so doubtful and self-depreciating.  They reach the Impala at last, and Cas still won’t look at Dean, so Dean cups his face and forces him to meet his eyes. 

“And I like that person.” Dean’s not sure why it’s so nerve-wracking to say it. “Have for a while.”

Maybe it’s the blockers or maybe it’s just knowing Cas isn’t going anywhere, but Dean’s feeling brave. And honest.

“Oh,” is all Cas says, staring into Dean and, yup, there goes his heart and his stomach again.

“You’ve never coddled me or treated me like I was weak. Even after we got into all this, you always were, uh, respectful. Like I’m not just a mate or a hole to fuck. Like you…cared. About me.”

“I do,” Cas replies, bashful, like it’s something he’s been trying to hide.

“And if you think I don’t feel the same way, you’re not as smart as I thought you were,” Dean says softly. He really wants to drive home the point, he tells himself, which is the only reason he kisses Cas. Not because he missed his lips or his taste or because kissing him makes every nerve in his body light up. He presses Cas against the door of the Impala and tries to tell him with his touch that he wants _him_ , not just his mate. Dean draws back, watching Cas’s eyes open slowly, still a bit dazed and possibly not entirely convinced. “I don’t usually put out on the first date, I want you to know, but I’d like it if you came home with me.”

“I promise I’ll still respect you in the morning,” Cas says softly. Dean pulls away, biting his lip as he smiles.

The drive home is easy, though Dean’s still too nervous to really talk. He still can’t smell Cas, except for the barest trace from the morning and that’s not enough to get him turned on. Sitting next to him, thinking of what he wants to do to show him that he wants him does.

Dean kisses Cas again the moment they’re inside, pushing off his coat and tugging the other man close before spinning him and pushing him against the wall. Dean can’t help but remember the last time he had Cas against a wall, after Alfie had dropped him off and they were so desperate to fuck they’d barely been able to form words. That was fun, but he wants this to be different. He wants to show Cas that this is different.

“Let’s get upstairs,” Dean says, trying to catch his breath. Cas just nods and allows Dean to lead the way, not letting go of his hand. He’s equally obedient when Dean guides him to sit on the bed, staring up at Dean like he’s gonna reveal the mysteries of the universe or something. Cas’s scent, and the scent of them together is still heavy in his room but Dean doesn’t think about that.

Dean strips offf his shirts and pants quickly, smiling at the way Cas licks his lips when his skin is revealed. He keeps his boxers on, just for now, so the scent of slick and arousal will stay contained a while longer. Cas’s eyes are still dark with lust as Dean leans down and kisses him again. He’s methodical as he undoes Cas’s tie, unbuttons his shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. Dean kisses at Cas’s neck and licks at his nipples before kneeling between his legs and getting to work on his belt.

“I want you,” Dean whispers as he pulls off Cas’s shoes and socks and then tugs his pants and briefs down and off, freeing Cas’s hard cock. Dean salivates at the sight of it, the musky smell of sex and want and his mate hitting him. He wants that cock inside him, but that's not what this is about. “I want to make you feel good.”

“I…yes…” Cas pants and Dean’s pretty proud of himself for rendering the guy almost speechless already.

“Scoot up,” Dean orders. Cas complies quickly and Dean crawls up the bed to follow, kissing at Cas’s thighs and hips and chest and chin until he finds his mouth. He takes Cas’s cock in hand, jacking him slowly as they kiss, languorous and deep. Dean draws back and watches Cas’s face has he fondles his balls, then moves beyond them to circle a fingertip around the warm pucker of Cas’s hole. “I want to make to feel as good as you make me feel.”

Cas gasps, eyes going wide with disbelief. “Dean...”

“I want to be in you, because of _you_ , just so that’s crystal clear,” Dean says, stroking Cas’s perineum and earning a shuddering inhale from the other man. “No fucking biological imperative or whatever. I just want you.”

Cas looks up at Dean like he’s seeing him for the first time, blue eyes practically glowing with emotion as he gives a careful nod. “Please,” Cas whispers, biting his bottom lip as Dean’s finger continues to explore. He pushes the tip of his finger in, barely to the knuckle, and Cas heaves another rough breath. “Fuck.”

“Okay,” Dean smiles. “You may have to give me some pointers, I haven’t really done this before.”

“Uh, lube, you need…I have…” Cas pants and Dean practically jumps up to comply, running to where he knows he saw Cas’s toiletry bag in the bathroom. Sure enough there’s a bottle of OmegaGlide in the bottom. Cas is propped up on his elbow, breathing heavily when Dean comes back in and crawls back on top of him.

“Alright. Where was I?” Dean grins and kisses Cas nice and slow. He could lose himself forever in that mouth, or the feel of Cas’s skin under his hands and his hot cock trapped between them, but somehow he manages to break away. Dean pops the cap of the bottle a squeezes a bit on his fingers, looking to Cas to check if it’s enough.

“More,” Cas says. Dean complies and Cas gives an encouraging nod and spreads his legs.

“Sorry if it’s cold,” Dean mutters as he finds his way to Cas’s entrance again and starts to circles and rub.

“It’s fine…oh…oh god…” It’s apparently more than fine if the way Cas’s yes fall closed when Dean breaches him with one slick finger is any indication. Dean remembers the way Cas fell apart with just one finger in the shower. It was fucking hot but also too fast. Dean wants this to go slow and draw out the pleasure for Cas as long as possible. Dean circles his finger, slow and careful as he stretches the ring of muscle. Dean pushes further in and he must graze Cas’s prostate because he writhes and gives a high moan.

“That good?” Dean asks, proud and excited. He repeats the movement and Cas nearly comes off the bed.

“Yes! Fuck. Need more,” Cas says, completely out of breath and more desperate that Dean’s even heard him.

“Already?”

“Just be careful,” Cas pants. Dean cautiously pushes a second slick finger inside, terrified of hurting Cas or getting this wrong. Cas is hot and tight but he doesn’t draw back from the intrusion. “Yes. Perfect…”

Dean uses the two fingers to work Cas open, sliding in and out and stretching him slowly. Dean’s painfully hard and the idea of that tight heat around his cock is driving him crazy, but there’s no rush because watching Cas fall apart underneath him is just as amazing. When he slides a third finger in Cas just about wails, grabbing at Dean’s shoulder and screwing his eyes shut. “Dean…fuck…” Cas doesn’t swear even half as much as Dean and hearing the profanity in his strained, deep voice is electrifying.

“You want more?” Dean asks, his own breath coming just as unevenly as Cas’s.

“I want you. Want your…” Cas opens his eyes and stares up at Dean with a look of hunger and determination that knocks the wind right out of him. “I want your cock in me _now_.”

Well, there’s no arguing with that. Dean pulls his fingers out and finally pushes off his boxers, which are seriously damp with precome and slick. His dick springs free, and Cas stares at it and licks his lips.

“More lube right?” Dean ask, leaning over Cas and trying to find the little bottle.

“No,” Cas whispers, pulling Dean down with one hand while the other strokes his cock then moves past it to Dean’s own slick hole. Cas fingers him almost roughly, dipping three fingers easily inside him. Dean moans as Cas withdraws his hand then strokes Dean’s cock again, coating it with Dean’s own slick.

“Holy fuck,” Dean breathes.

“Now,” Cas commands, spreading his legs and guiding Dean to the right position. They don’t break eye contact at all as Dean pushes into Cas, slow and gentle. He keeps one hand on Cas’s side, rubbing circles against his skin as Cas’s heat swallows his cock bit by bit. It’s so tight and hot and so _so_ good. He kisses Cas when he’s full sheathed, not moving quite yet.

“You okay?” Dean asks lips barely free of the kiss, forehead against Cas’s and amazed he can still make words.

“Yes…you can…oh…” Cas’s legs wrap around Dean’s waist as Dean begins to slowly fuck into him.

“God, Cas, you feel amazing…” Dean murmurs, rocking in and out and losing himself in the friction and heat. He was afraid of Cas coming to fast but at this rate, Dean’s not sure how long _he_ can hold on. Cas’s swollen cock is leaking precome against his stomach, red and neglected. Dean wraps his hand around Cas, adjusting their positions to lift Cas’s hips just a bit more and that must do it because Cas makes a noise like Dean’s never heard and starts moving his own hips faster and harder to meet Dean. Dean feels Cas’s knot swelling as he strips his cock in time with his frenzied thrusts.

“Dean, I’m close, fuck, yes…fuck fuck fuck…love your cock in me. Fuck…” Dean’s never heard Cas this filthy and it’s fucking amazing. All of it is. The way Cas’s body is open for him. The high gasps Cas makes when Dean hits that sweet spot over and over. The smell of sweat and slick and sex and beneath that the scent of Cas. Not an alpha, not even a mate, just _Cas_. The only one Dean’s ever shared something like this with, who’s trusted Dean, opened up to him and let him in every fucking way. Cas who’s looking at Dean like he can see his soul and isn’t running away. Cas who is never going anywhere because Dean’s not going to let him. “Dean!” Cas gasps as his body clenches around Dean and he comes, hot white pouring from his cock between them.

Dean keeps moving, fucking every ounce of pleasure out of Cas’s trembling body, words completely lost as tension builds more and more in his core. Cas is a vice around him and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt, perfect and right and completely fucking his. Cas kisses him, desperate and intimate and Dean’s orgasm hits him like lightning. He spends himself into Cas, shaking and rigid above him, marking him like no one else will ever be allowed to again.

Dean pulls out and falls back, catching his breath as they bask in the afterglow. Cas’s eyes are closed when Dean finally looks over at him, a blissed out look on his face. It takes effort, but Dean manages to get to the bathroom and back with a wet washcloth to clean them – mostly Cas – off.

“Thank you,” Cas murmurs, apparently still conscious.

“Uh, thank you…that was pretty, uh…” Dean tosses the washcloth in the general direction of the hamper and flops back into bed. Cas’s head lolls in Dean’s direction and he finally opens his eyes.

“Amazing.”

“Really?” Cas just smiles and nods lazily at Dean. “Good. Cause it was fucking awesome on my end and we are so doing that again.”

“I’d like that,” Cas says softly, turning on his side and pressing close to Dean. “I’d like that very much.”

“Whatever you want, Cas,” Dean murmurs, stroking his hair. “Can we shower before bed? I think your whole point or whatever about biology has been made, if I’m falling asleep next to my mate, I want to smell him.”

“That’s acceptable.”

It takes them a long time to get ready for bed actually, because it’s actually pretty early. They kiss and fool around some in the shower and end up curled together watching the food network as they fall asleep. Dean’s phone buzzes at some point past ten with a text from Sam.

**> >So, how was the date?**

Dean looks over at the alpha fast asleep next to him and smiles. There's nothing in the world quite as good as falling asleep next to Cas.

**< <fuckin perfect**

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy carp guys, this is it. I know I changed the chapter numbers, but this is just where the story went and how it wanted to end. As I mentioned, some ficlets/time stamps are already percolating in my brian, so the full story for these morons isn't over. Just this part. Oh the irony that my own best laid plans went astray. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy.

The first washed-out light of dawn is peaking through the windows when the alarm on Cas’s phone goes off. Today Dean has no intention of letting his mate out of bed without a fight. Accordingly he gloms onto Cas, pulling him close by the waist and burying his nose in his hair.

“Stay in bed,” Dean mutters. He can’t comprehend why Cas would want to leave the warm cocoon of sheets to go run in the October drizzle.

Cas rolls over in the circle of Dean’s arms and kisses him softly on the nose. “I promise I’ll be fast if you promise to be in bed when I get back.”

“Ugh, fine,” Dean groans and Cas slips away.

Dean dozes for a minute or so until _his_ fucking phone starts making noise on the opposite side of the bed and it takes Dean a moment to recognize the song. Why the hell is Sam calling at whatever AM?

“What?” Dean grunts into the phone, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Is Cas there?” Sam asks back, voice terse.

“Uh, no.” Dean’s truly suspicious now. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Charlie got you in with her doctor. This morning.”

“What?” Dean sits bolt upright in bed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She did research and talked it out with Dr. Bevell and she’s ready to talk with you about therapies for broken matings,” Sam goes on as Dean blinks in stunned confusion. “There’s been lots of advances in the last few years and with anything but a blood bond, the recovery time can get down to just a few days.”

“Sam, how many times do I have to tell you, Cas and I are not breaking up,” Dean growls. His stomach is already churning at the thought. Especially after last night, Dean has no reason to doubt that Cas is what he wants and he can't believe Sam doesn't get that. “I thought you guys were warming up to him.”

“We are. This is as much about him as it’s about you,” San replies, voice steady and placating. “Have you thought at all about what this means to him? If this goes wrong, he’s going to get hurt. Badly.”

“What?”

“Dean, in case you didn’t notice, Cas is fucking seriously in love with you.”

It feels sort of like time freezes. Dean can’t move or speak or even really think. Or maybe even breathe. The birds are singing outside in the rain and Sam has obviously lost him mind.

“That’s…no. Why would he…?” Dean stammers and Sam huffs on his end of the line.

“Everyone can see it, Dean, except apparently you. And if you aren’t prepared for that, you shouldn’t string him along.”

Dean hears a faint clatter downstairs and jumps into panic mode. “Sam, I gotta…”

“We’re coming by to pick you up. All you have to do is listen so that you know the options. Just come to the visit,” Sam barrels on. “You need to know you do have a choice here. And there are people beside you to consider.”

Dean’s both glad and annoyed that Sam isn’t there in person right now because there might be punching if he was. “Goodbye, Sam,” Dean snaps then practically throws the phone across the room.

Shit.

Listen, he knows he’s a moron for only considering this now, but to be fair the idea of someone, especially someone like Cas loving him is kind of absurd. Isn’t it? People don’t love him. Well, Sam does. But Sam’s stuck with him and loves him despite how much Dean has fucked up. Mom did but she’s gone and who fucking knows if Dad did. Obviously not enough to stick around. But they were family too. They didn’t chose Dean. Charlie loves him, but that’s different. They’re friends and more alike than they’ll admit, and she still wants to murder him half the time. Friends are different. So are hook ups and crushes and everything else.. Sam is talking about _love_ love. And Dean can’t even comprehend it.

Sure, Cas has affection for him. He cares about Dean and respects him and he was willing to end shit when he thought that’s what Dean wanted and just as willing to keep going when Dean changed his mind. And he touches Dean like he treasures him, yeah, and he looks at Dean with light in his eyes and give him those lop-sided smiles like a dork, but…

“Are you alright?”

Dean looks up at the object of his panicked thoughts standing at the bedroom door, sleep pants low on his hips and two mugs of coffee in his hands.

“You smell distressed,” Cas states, approaching and Dean can’t even answer. “Here. I’ve been trying to get you coffee for a week.” Cas hands him the mug of plain black coffee and Dean remembers.

Cas had been holding coffee when he first showed up at Dean’s room in Chicago. And nearly every day since then Cas has tried to get them – him – some. And Cas had tried to ask him out, he remembers that now. Cas adores his name and says Dean is beautiful and treats Dean like something precious and good and he brought him _plain black coffee._

“I love you too.”

Cas blinks at Dean, as if he can’t believe what he heard. Dean can’t blame him, since he can’t quite believe he said it.

“I didn’t think you noticed,” Cas says softly.

“That’s because I’m an idiot sometimes,” Dean mutters, staring at Cas and feeling like he’s seeing him for the first time. “But I do notice. Now. And…” He’s not going to fucking cry. That is not happening. He’s just sort of overwhelmed. He takes a long sip of coffee from to cover and it's the best thing he's ever taste. “Damn, I am one lucky son of a bitch. Falling in love with my mate," he says finally, shaking his head in pure fucking amazement.

“I’m not good at this part,” Cas says, taking the coffee and setting it down carefully on the bedside table. He crawls across the bed to Dean and takes his hands, rubbing his thumb across Dean's knuckles. “But, just so we’re clear. I love you. More than I have ever loved…anything really. I hope that’s doesn’t scare you away.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s fucking terrifying and weird, but…” Dean swallows, raising a hand to Cas’s scruffy cheek. “But I think I can handle it.” Cas nods, his eyes still downcast until Dean coaxes him to look up. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you, Cas. Ever.”

Cas surges forward and kisses him, fervent and frenzied, like a dam just broke. Dean only takes a second to catch up, scrambling to touch and embrace his mate as they fall back on the mattress. Cas has Dean out of his sleep pants in a matter of seconds. Dean isn’t quite as successful or smooth, but he does manage to get Cas completely naked in pretty good time too, and then they’re skin to skin and it’s perfect. Well, almost. Their rapidly hardening cocks knock together and get wedged between hips and thighs and the two of them struggle to kiss and caress as much of each other as possible. Maybe it’s because Dean went too long not smelling Cas yesterday, but his mate’s scent is even more overpowering and intoxicating than usual. Or maybe it’s the fact that now he knows he's smelling the scent of someone he loves. Someone who loves him.

“Need you in me,” Dean mutters into a kiss before biting at Cas’s plump lower lip. Cas just sort of grunts in reply, hauling Dean into position beneath him by the thighs. He loves when Cas gets that look of purpose in his eyes, like he’s gearing up for war or something, who knows. But it gives Dean goosebumps as Cas spread’s his legs and palms Dean’s cock and balls, tortuously neglecting his hole. “Please, Cas.”

“You’re very impatient sometimes,” Cas growls, stroking Dean slow and massaging the cockhead with his thumb.

“Yeah, well, you’re bossy,” Dean snaps and Cas raises an eyebrow and Dean shrinks. “But I still love you.”

Those are the magic words apparently, because Cas grins and his fingers finally move down off of Dean’s dick to his waiting hole. Dean arches at the gentle probing of those perfect fingers. He loves those too. He loves the way Cas is careful even in the heat of lust. He loves the way he kisses Dean with three fingers already inside him, finding his prostate and touching off little ripples of electric pleasure through Dean. God, he loves this dorky, sexy, serious, caring, ridiculous man and he has no idea how he went so long not realizing it. He wants to say it again, over and over. He wants to whisper it against Cas’s skin forever, but it also feels like those words are gold. A rare currency he shouldn’t spend to frivolously or it will be gone.

Cas withdraws his fingers and only leaves Dean empty for a moment before filling him slowly with his fantastic cock. This is the only cock Dean’s going to feel for the rest of forever, he’s pretty sure, and he’s amazingly cool with that. Ecstatic even. And holy shit, Cas probably feel the same way. Dean starts rocking his hips, meeting Cas’s first slow thrusts and moaning at the feeling of fullness and penetration. Cas kisses the sound from his mouth, hands caught in Dean’s hair as Dean holds on to his alpha’s shoulders. His feet are locked behind Cas and his ass is off the bed and it feels so fucking good Dean’s half certain he could come just like this. When Cas’s knot starts to rise, stretching him even more and hitting his prostate from both sides Dean almost screams at the feeling. Somehow he manages not to come just then and instead pushes Cas back enough to look him in the face. It’s the curiosity in Cas’s face, the way he squints down at Dean with concern and affection and, shit, so much love, that makes him sure.

“Bite me.”

“What?” Cas looks like he just got slapped and he actually stops moving completely, knot caught within Dean, to stare.

“Come on, let’s make this fucking official. All the way,” Dean says, bearing his neck.

“Dean, we…we can’t undo that if…” Cas stammers even as he hungrily licks his lips.

“Yeah, I know, that’s the point,” Dean replies, carding his hand through Cas’s hair a few times, making it even more of a disaster.

“Dean…” Cas whispers, reverently stroking at thumb at the base of Dean’s neck.

“I want to be with you, Cas. For the whole long run. Not because I need you or because of some accident, because I fucking love you.” Cas’s eyes go soft and suddenly Dean’s never felt so raw or exposed. Might as well go all in. “I chose you.”

Dean’s not gonna lie, and he’s not proud of this, but he’s pretty certain someone’s going to cry. Cas looks close to it, staring down at Dean like he can’t believe he’s real. Dean can hardly take it, but there’s nowhere to hide from that look or the weight of what’s between them. So he moves, grinding his hips and working around Cas’s knot and Cas kisses him in reply. Dean surrenders to it, frantic and desperate to be claimed completely. Spurred on, Cas thrusts into him as hard as his can as he trails messy kisses over Dean’s jaw and throat. 

“Now, Cas. Please,” Dean begs, his voice a rasp of want and love. “Now.”

Cas’s teeth break the skin and something like magic happens. Dean has no idea what else to call it. It’s like something between them, invisible and unfathomable, just locks into place. Somewhere in the logical brain he left behind a week ago he knows this is chemicals and blood and his body responding to his mate, but that doesn’t touch this at all. The world rearranges itself around them and Dean sees stars as he comes, cock untouched, the most perfect pleasure he’s ever experienced.

He feels almost blind when Cas pulls away and bares his own neck to Dean’s mouth. Dean moves out of complete  instinct, the knowledge of where to bite and how drawn into his DNA long ago. He sinks his teeth into his mate’s neck and he has to hold Cas tight so he doesn’t flail away as he comes. The copper taste of blood in his mouth is overwhelmed by the scents of autumn and rain, their scents, perfect together and now linked and fused forever. He can feel Cas’s come surge inside him and it has Dean coming again, clenching and shaking as he pulls away to see his mark on his mate’s skin. It's beautiful, and Dean knows he's gonna be so fucking proud out in the world when people see that and know this amazing man is his. 

His.

The only sound is the quiet patter of rain on the window and their slowing breaths as they come down. Cas touches Dean’s face then gently runs a thumb over the fresh wound on Dean’s neck before pressing a tender kiss to the mark.

“I chose you too,” Cas whispers and Dean can’t help himself but he grins.

“Now you are really stuck with me.”

“I’m alright with it,” Cas smiles back. “You have many good qualities.”

Dean chuckles and Cas lifts him and they readjust so that Dean is in Cas’s lap; a much more comfortable position for waiting for Cas’s knot to go down and basking in the new connection between them. “Many?” Dean echoes.

“I even like the bow legs.”

“Hey they have their uses.” Dean squeezes Cas with his thighs and gets a low throaty laugh for his trouble. “Fair warning: I talk too much during movies. And I don’t delete my emails and I always forget to buy milk. You’re gonna have to get used to all of that.”

Cas just shrugs. “I have no sense of direction. Without GPS I’d be wandering in the wild somewhere. And I lie to my mother, about my romantic life.”

“What do you tell her?” Dean can almost imagine Cas droning on to his mother on the phone while doing other work, just agreeing and making shit up.

“You may need to be prepared to explain why you are not a beta named Nichole.”

“That’s gonna be fun. Maybe I can-” Dean stops, ears perking at a sound from downstairs. “Oh shit.”

“Is someone here?” Cas asks, tensing.

“Only one person has a key. When he said he’d be over I didn’t think he’d be this fast,” Dean explains and Cas’s eyes go wide and terrified. “You cool with traumatizing my brother for life?”

“Dean, no.”

“Come on, he’s got it coming,” Dean just about cackles. “Hey! Sammy!” Dean yells as footsteps sound in the hall.

“Dean!” Cas protests but it’s too late, the bedroom door swings open and Cas ducks to hide as best he can behind Dean.

“Hey, Dean, I – Oh God! Holy – DEAN!” Sam yelps and the door slams closed. Dean laughs so hard Cas has to hold him up to keep him from falling over.

“That was cruel,” Cas chides, shaking his head.

“I was teaching my brother a valuable lesson about privacy,” Dean manages to say without breaking until the last word.

“Why is Sam even here?” Cas asks, looking worried and serious enough to dim Dean’s mirth.

“Oh, uh, he and Charlie…they wanted me to go to her doctor. Talk about treatments or something for broken matings.”

“Oh.” Is all Cas says. Dean nuzzles his face until they’re kissing, warm and consoling.

"I'm gonna tell them they can shove their treatments up their asses," Dean reassures him.

"Don't be angry, they just care about you."

“They don’t get the whole picture,” Dean tells his mate. “Well, I think Sam just got some of it.”

Cas huffs a laugh and kisses Dean again.

 

It takes another 15 minutes for Cas’s knot to go down, and 10 more for the two of them to shower quickly and throw on some clothes. Dean’s more than pleased to see Cas has commandeered a pair of Dean’s blue sweats and a worn sleepshirt. Dean for his part has no plan for giving the Northwestern tee back to Cas any time soon.  They dab some disinfectant onto the fresh mating bites, just to be safe, but leave them unbandaged. Dean admires his new mark in the mirror and grins. He’s going to wear low collars all week just so everyone can see.

“Stop preening, let’s go apologize to your brother,” Cas says, tugging Dean away.

“I do not preen,” Dean grumbles as he lets Cas drag him from the bathroom. 

“Of course not.”

Sam is sitting at the counter with Charlie when they come downstairs, scowling into a cup of coffee.

“Oh good, the whole gang is here,” Dean says, when the two look up.

“Sam, I apologize for-” Cas starts.

“Dude, I don’t need to think about that any more. Ever,” Sam says firmly, avoiding both their eyes.

Charlie has no such qualms. Her face melts from annoyed to suspicious. “What is that on your neck?” 

Dean grins, tilting his head to show off the mark. “It’s exactly what you think it is.” At that Sam finally looks up, mouth agape and eyes wide. “Cas finally made an honest man outta me.”

“Holy crap,” Sam breathes.

“You two blood bonded?” Charlie asks, her eyes flitting between the two of them.

“We’ve had some very good…discussions,” Cas replies, looking nervously at Dean. “Last night and today. We, together, wanted to make a more profound commitment. To each other."

Neither Sam nor Charlie look convinced and Dean heaves a sigh. “Look, guys, I know this thing seems weird. And hell, it is. But it's real. We’re going into this with eyes wide open and I don’t want to hear any arguments about brain chemistry or hormones or whatever. Cas is the best thing to ever happen to me that I never saw coming.”

Sam and Charlie both stare as Dean awkwardly reaches for Cas, and pulls him to his side. It’s Sam that speaks first. “You should put that on a hallmark card or something.”

“Shut up,” Dean spits back as Sam’s face breaks into a grin.

“I know you both care very much for Dean and want him to be happy,” Cas says sincerely, standing up a bit straighter and squeezing Dean’s hands. “I want you to know I love him very much too, and I want that as well.”

“Uh, ditto for me,” Dean mutters, cheeks heating a bit because he’s still getting used to the idea that he got this lucky. “On the love thing.”

Before Dean can blink he has an armful of redheaded omega and Charlie is squeezing the breath out of him. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you, you giant nerd.”

"Thanks, kiddo," Dean mutters into her hair.

"Do not fuck this up. He's a god one," Charlie says into his shoulder.

“Can’t breathe,” Dean grunts and Charlie releases him before turning to trap Cas is a hug that looks if anything even tighter. An amazed smile breaks over Sam’s face as he keeps staring at his brother.

“Well, now I guess I gotta be happy for you,” Sam says.

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to get me a present or something?” Dean asks.

“That’s weddings, Dean."

“Same thing. Oh, that reminds me.” Dean glances to where Charlie is still hugging a panicked looking Cas. “Hold on.”

Dean rushes back upstairs to where most of Cas’s things remain unpacked and finds what he’s looking for easily. When he gets back to the kitchen Cas is finally free of Charlie and actually shaking hands with Sam, which is quite a thing to see. Cas’s face brightens when he sees what Dean is carrying.

“Figured this needed a place of honor, seeing as it ain’t going back to Chicago.” Dean places the ten cent coffee sign he found for Cas back in Nebraska right by the coffee maker, propped against the backsplash. It matches perfectly, as if Dean had designed the space for it without even knowing. Cas apparently teleported to within an inch of Dean while he was occupied, so when he turns he’s looking straight into amazed blue eyes.

 “Thank you, Dean,” Cas says softly. Dean twines their fingers together and smiles back.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

 

It didn’t take them long to shoo Sam and Charlie out of the house, making a few not-quite-jokes about being newly blood bonded and feeling extra affectionate. They’d even tried to make it upstairs, but Cas had gotten that look in his eye as soon as the sound of Sam’s cared faded and Dean had ended up getting fucked while bent over the kitchen counter. Cas hadn’t even minded helping Dean mop after.

Now, several hours and four orgasms later, they’re standing in a large, muddy field and pretending it’s not going to rain any second. The smell of rich earth and leaves and smoke surrounds them, their own scent mirrored in the smell of the place where there are going to build something together.

“The stream’s down there, at the west edge,” Dean says, pointing toward where the field slopes into a hill a few hundred feet from them. “There’s already a fuckton of blackberries growing, hence the name.”

“And here I thought you just really liked blackberries,” Cas smirks.

Dean shakes his head and laughs softly. “So I’m shitty with names, sue me.”

Cas doesn’t tease anymore, merely looks around at the site with a please smile. “It will be a wonderful neighborhood, and a final project I’ll be very proud to have helped happen.”

“Final?” Dean echoes, concern rising.

“Well, unless DXM opens a satellite office here, I’m not going back to work for them when this is done,” Cas states easily, and Dean’s not quite sure why he’s surprised. Maybe Cas just always has that effect. 

“You’re just gonna quit?”

“I don’t see the point of keeping a job I don’t love if there’s any chance it will keep me from you,” Cas says with a shrug. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, I don’t want anything taking you away either.” Cas gives him a broad, gummy grin and he falls in love all over again. “What are you going to do instead?”

“I don’t know,” Cas says without any trace of apprehension. “For the first time in my life I have no idea where I’m going, but I’m not scared by that. Just excited.”

“You have no idea where you’re going in your career,” Dean corrects and Cas gives him an indulgent nod.

“Seeing where fate takes me has worked out well in other areas. Maybe my luck will hold.”

Dean gives Cas a careful, sidelong look. “You know this hot guy I know gave me a line once about luck bein’ how you find things, not what makes 'em stick.”

Cas looks back at Dean, the meaning of the words not lost on him. “Sounds like a smart man.”

“He's okay,” Dean shrugs. “Crap taste in music though.”

“Is that so?”

“Makes up for it with good taste in cars. And mates.” Dean sends Cas a wink which he pointedly ignores.

“Hm, you should introduce me sometime.”

“Maybe after work. We really should at least make an appearance at the office,” Dean says, even though it’s early afternoon. “Garth is probably gonna fucking cry when he sees the bites.”

“That would be prudent. Though I fully intend on keeping you occupied for all of tomorrow and well into the weekend.”

“As long as we get pants on long enough for you to meet Bobby, I’m cool.”

“Back to the mines then?” Cas asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Let’s do it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dean watches Cas’s come splash against Baby’s side door as REO Speedwagon blares from the car radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and subscribed. It's been so encouraging and amazing and gives me so much joy and energy to keep writing. Please check out the rest of my page if you haven't already, and come and [say hi to me on tumblr](http://ibelieveinthelittletreetopper.tumblr.com/) . As I mentioned there's going to be more to this verse, but there are a few other WIPs I need to tackle before. But I may even be tempted to do some chapter's from Cas's POV...
> 
> Again thank you so much for reading, I hope you've enjoyed and that someone finally realizes the horrible pun DXM stands for. A final thank you to my biggest fan and my true mate, nods to whom are all over in this fic and who I love very much. Thanks for reading, angel.


End file.
